The Salem Settlement
by Fulminanz
Summary: In one moment, the earth burned and they all required just one thing; survival. So the Room provided. Two-Hundred years later, six wizards and witches come back to reality and find a world destroyed. A letter, telling of the last surviving wizards, leads them to Salem where they must fight once again to survive. /Abandoned
1. Great Atomic Power - The Louvin Brothers

The blinding light of a thousand suns was the last thing that burned itself into the iris of Harry Potter on the last day of earth.

It had been a normal day at the job for him. Nothing that would have heralded the catastrophe that would follow. Some Slytherin seventh year had stolen valuable items from a Ravenclaw. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement had sent two recently finished trainees to investigate the minor incident. Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass, Auror Initiates and the ones that lost the daily competition of coming as late as possible. The early ones always got the boring cases.

It had been simple enough. Harry threw his name around like a club spiked with nails and soon enough the Slytherin who's parents had connections to Neo-Death Eaters sung like a nightingale. Nobody soldiered on under the glare of the man who had killed the Dark Lord with an Expelliarmus. Turned out that the boy had used house-elves to do his dirty work for him by quick talk and smart wording. One of the elves had died while punishing itself. The conflicting nature of the Slytherins words and the ongoing orders the little critters had from Hogwart's headmistress had been too much for the elf.

Enter stage, Hermione Granger, chief commissioner of the newly founded subgroup for house-elve rights in the Department for Magical Creatures. If something could freeze the depths of hell, it was the glare that Hermione shot the young Slytherin. Harry thought that he had done quite a harsh investigation, but Hermiones furious temper smashed the Slytherins ego against the wall, trampled on it, chewed it through and then spit it into a bucket. It really was a shame that she wasn't an Auror. Harry thought she would clean out Knockturn by simply glaring at it long enough.

It made the job for Harry and Daphne all the more easier, at first sight. Up until the point when the seventh year spilled the beans on the students organization that called itself the "Emerald Hydra". An organization that actively recruited purebloods for camps in eastern Europe where they would be trained in Dark Arts and general terrorism tactics.

He had really looked forward to the Leaky Cauldron's special this afternoon. Eating Tom's Shepard's pie, flirting a bit with Daphne and then writing a report that nobody would ever read sounded like a good way to spend the day. Interviewing every pureblood in the school had made a bit of a dent in that plan. It cost him the better part of the afternoon to get the students to talk, but in the end, they all sung. They always did, he had thought in triumph.

Then, after dinner, meeting in the Room of Requirement with the entirety of the Hogwarts staff. Leading the team of educators was, of course, headmistress McGonagall with a mood as sour as a lemon. Following her were the teachers. Filius Flitwick, Charms, quirky and fun normally, but all the more pissed off about the situation. Horace Slughorn, no longer Head of Slytherin, but still going strong with Potions looked a lot like he rather the floor swallowed him whole. Twenty of his students were found to be Hydra Heads, as they called themselves. Then came Head of House Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom, proud as on the day he realized he had killed the last Horcrux. No Gryffindor was among the suspects. Close after him came Luna Lovegood who helped out this year for Magical Creatures, with George Weasley, Defense against the Dark Arts, close after her. The only one who had been fatalistic enough to take his chances with the position this year. The next group of three were Susan Bones, Ancient Runes, Septima Vector, new Head of House Slytherin and Aritmancy Professor, Aurora Sinistra, Astronomy. Binns didn't show, of course, but all the more surprising was that Lilith Moon came from her divination classroom at the top of the tower and sat down in a corner of the Room of Requirement, mumbling about Ragnaroek and the final judgment. Harry snickered and wondered how the confirmed Oracle managed to sound even crazier than Trelawney had. Harry was rather relieved that the latest amazing idea of the Board of Governors hadn't shown for the meeting. Professor Pansy Parkinson, educating her students to the best of her knowledge in the ways of the muggles refrained from mingling too much with blood traitors.

The discussion that followed was the stuff of legends, if legends were made of empty platitudes and mindless accusations. Susan Bones just straight up refused that one of her Puffs could be a Hydra. Septima Vector didn't tire of repeating over and over again how disappointed she was and how far she distanced herself from such beliefs. Flitwick was outraged and his Goblin half came through so that he growled more than he spoke. In one word, it was a freakin' madhouse and Harry had to take control. Daphne had been asleep already on a couch and the clock in the Room of Requirement told everybody interested that it was already way too late to get eight hours of healthy sleep if one had to wake up at six o'clock the next morning.

The moment he wanted to shout over them all to silence them, that job was taken over by the shaking form of Lilith Moon in the corner. She screamed like a banshee and clawed at her head until blood streamed down her face. In between her screams, manic laughter came from her and she shouted, over and over again. "DEATH IN FLAMES! THE WORLD TO ASHES!"

He had been annoyed out of his mind at this point. He took her by the shoulders and shook her out of it. It took a heavy backhand to the face for her to wake up from he trance. Milky, blue eyes looked at him as she spoke in a whimpering whisper. "The world dies, Harry. They kill her and us with her. Right now, they kill us all. Its coming." Then she convulsed and fell over, unconscious.

Why the Room then showed them all the outside, nobody knew, but then again, nobody really knew how the Room worked. Maybe it had been Lilith that wished for the Room to form some sort of display, maybe it was the Room itself that knew that something significant was happening. In any case, what they saw froze them in place.

Clouds formed like mushrooms could be seen all over the horizon. Bright flashing lights that reflected in the clouds came from the south and closed in to Scotland. The dull sound, like growling demons, howled through the room.

Harry stepped up to the display, not believing what he saw, not wanting to believe it. The form, the sheer mass of the clouds, he couldn't even think it until Hermione whispered from behind him.

"Atomic bombs,"

"Mrs. Granger, you know whats happening?" McGonagall asked silently, her eyes never leaving the spectacle.

"Yes, Professor. These are mushroom clouds, a phenomenon occurring when atomic bombs detonate." She began to cry in silence. Tears rushing down her face while she kept explaining. "Atomic bombs use the force that is harvested from the splitting of an atom to produce unimaginable destruction. In the history of humanity only two cities were ever destroyed by them, Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Recently they have been employed again, in smaller versions, in the war of the USA and its allies against China and their allies." A heart wrenching sob escaped her and she fell to the floor, crying her eyes out.

"What, I… Mrs. Granger, what does that mean?" the headmistress pressed on.

"It means, Professor." Harry spoke up. His voice calm, collected - resignated. "It means that this is the end. The muggles have decided to end it. Its the Apocalypse."

And with those words a bright flash swept the Room in white. It burned in his iris, but he refused to close them. Somewhere a few miles from them a bomb hit a target, devouring it like a sudden flash of fiendfyre. Harry thought that it was beautiful in a horrible, terrifying way as the shock wave hit Hogwarts. They heard screams from the corridors, but nobody moved. Then another bright flash, a roar from the deepest pits of hell, holy fire smiting the earth and all that was built on her.

Then silence, for there was nothing that could still make noise.

OOO

Silence was all that reigned in Harry for a long time. Silence of sound was just the very beginning. His sense were silent, his emotions were silent. He drifted in a sea of nothingness and all he knew was the bright light that had burnt itself in his mind. The light and the sobs of Hermione as she realized that they would all die, together with the entire world.

Yes, there it was, that thought he hunted for. The world was dead. He had witnessed the insanity of man unfold as their tools of the apocalypse rained down upon themselves. They were all devoured by the hellfire they had designed themselves. Artificial fiendfyre, a thousand times hotter than any living flame, a million times more cruel, for it had no preferences, no hunger to still and no counterspells to fear. The atomic fire just burned without priority, everything at once to leave nothing behind.

This time, he thought, it felt different. Maybe that would have awaited him beyond the veil? Some nothingness that merely in the most poetic senses could be called the everything. Where mind and emotions were at peace and just the last thoughts of your life hunted you.

The mushroom clouds, the bright flash of light.

A sobbing Hermione.

Lilith Moon as she came mumbling into the classroom.

It would be cruel to live eternity this way, he thought. All those memories were not happy ones. Thinking about them forever would be painful and even though his emotions seemed on standby, eventually it would be torture.

It was this thought that would end his wait. Sometime he would feel his hands twitch and he could feel his heart beat against his chest as if he had a weight on his body. Then he felt a foot, then his lungs as he began to inhale and exhale. His sense came back slowly. At first his nose began to smell again. His heart skipped a beat in shock as the sweetly stench in the air registered in his brain. It was the smell of corpses who found death just recently. Then his ears came back. Harry tried, but failed to cry for help as he heard someone whimper. With a flash, the rest of his body came back and with it came pain.

His cry echoed through the room as his nerves sent nothing but pain through his body. It was like a Cruciatus curse, so brutal. To his luck, it ended as fast as it started and left him behind, sore and stunned.

"Harry!"

He knew that voice, he thought, but it couldn't be. Weren't they all dead? "Daphne?"

"Its me, Harry. Can you open your eyes, can you stand up?"

"I think so," he mumbled and opened his eyes a slid. Fortunately it was rather dark in the room. He opened his eyes fully and looked into the tear-smeared face of Daphne Greengrass right above him. With sheer force of will he made every single one of his spines lift him up. Every single one of them protested by making him feel as if he had just come back from a ten-thousand mile run, at least. Every fiber of every muscle was sore and tense, but he kept on until he sat next to his blond colleague.

"Are we dead?" he asked.

"Wha… " she stopped and looked around the room, seemingly searching for something and then her voice became decidedly panicked. "Harry what happened? Some people here are dead. The others are unconscious just like you were."

"Oh, right…" he mumbled ", you were asleep, weren't you?"

Even through her panic she had the decency to blush at that. "Don't tell the Director…"

"There's no more Director, Daphne."

"You're making no sense, Harry."

"It was the Apocalypse. Atomic bombs… if that means anything to you."

"Like those things those people used to blow up cars?" The confusion was evident on her face as she tried to get an image in her head of what she was dealing with.

"Same principle, a lot more punch to it." Harry answered. "Enough of them to kill every living thing on the planet. Therefore I repeat: Are we dead?"

"As far as I can tell, we are alive. Can't say that about the Professors, though."

Harry did a quick scan of the room. He immediately saw the unconscious form of Hermione lying next to him and soon after her a skeleton with a witches hat and dark-green robes, Professor McGonagall. Next to her the small body of Flitwick was rotting away, just like the bodies of Vector, Slughorn and Sinistra. The others were also lying on the ground, or like Lilith, leaned in a corner. He couldn't tell if they were dead or alive. Not without checking their vital signs.

He grabbed the wrist of Hermione, ignoring his muscles disobedience and felt her pulse. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the feeling on his fingertips as they pressed onto the veins. Harry wasn't sure for several heart wrenching seconds until he felt the faint beating of her heart. She was alive.

"Daphne, can you check on the others? I don't think I can stand."

"Sure can, Harry." She said with a nod and began to feel the pulse of Neville. "He's alive," she said with some honest to Merlin relief. The next one were George Weasley and Luna Lovegood and both checked out as faint, but alive. So did the rest of the younger Professors.

"So it merely got the older semesters?" she asked, more to herself than Harry. "That's…odd,"

"Maybe it was their bodies giving up. To be honest, I feel like I could end up unconscious any second. Something has exhausted us and maybe it was too much for the older ones?"

"Your guess is as good as mine but that sounds at least like it could be the truth." She came back to Harry and sat in front of him, eyes locked with each other. "What are we supposed to do now?"

"Check out Hogwarts, see if its still standing, then…"

"Wait,… what do you mean "still standing"?"

"I told you that they dropped atomic bombs on us."

"Yea, but… I mean, this is Hogwarts! How could some muggle weapons destroy the oldest school of magic?"

"Same way they probably pulverized London and every major city around to little shreds. I can't explain, but trust me when I repeat myself. Those bombs pack a punch. They're basically wide-area fiendfyre and the shock wave is just as good as an area of effect Killing Curse."

"I have trouble believing that."

"I'm sure you'll soon enough see for yourself. Given that you're right an we truly are alive. Still not sure about that."

"Anyway, what do we do?"

Harry looked a bit around. If he was honest with himself, checking out Hogwarts sounded like a lot of walking and he was not ready for that at all. "Lets wait for the others to wake up. Say, an hour or so. Then we see from there. Alright?"

"As good a plan as any." Daphne scowled, sat back on the couch and closed her eyes.

OOO

It took the better part of three hours for everyone to wake up. Harry repeated the story several times for the magical raised and confirmed with the muggleborns and half-bloods. Hermione had sobbed horribly when she had realized that her parents, whom she had just recently found in Australia again, where probably atomized dust at this point. It was just the same as everybody felt. All of them had lost loved ones and even the purebloods slowly realized the sheer brutality of this. They had witnessed the apocalypse, and for all they knew, they had survived it - somehow.

Then, Harry took a sharp breath and hurled himself into a standing position. His knees were like jelly and his bones cracked and felt like rusty metal joints while moving. It took quite the effort, but finally he reached the door to the seventh floor corridor. He then took the knob, twisted it, opened the door and looked out. He felt the expectant eyes on his back as he closed the door again, dumbstruck by what he had seen.

"So, how is Hogwarts doing?" Neville asked.

"There is no more Hogwarts."

Nobody knew what to say until Neville blurted out "What?" and wobbled to the door with his own, paining bones.

He opened, looked out and closed again. As he turned his face had gone from pale to arctic snow white. "There is… no… no more Hogwarts." He whispered and let himself fall to the floor.

That prompted the rest of them to do the same and take a look for themselves. All of them came back a few shades paler and with just as many ideas as to how to proceed as before. Hogwarts didn't lay in ruin. Hogwarts wasn't a skeletal pile of rubble. Hogwarts was simply… gone.

"What did those muggles do!?" Daphne shouted through the room, holding her head and taking shallow, frantic breaths. Susan quickly began to rub her back and told her to breathe slower and deeper, preventing the blonde to go into hyperventilation. When she calmed down, she looked up and saw the clueless faces surrounding her. Only one of those faces wasn't stunned in place. Harry's quickly moved from despair, to realization, to sadness and finally, to determination.

"Doesn't matter what they did. More important is to see if anybody else survived this. If we got a lease on life, maybe someone else did too." With a few quick steps he was through the room and stood in front of the brooms pile. "Everybody grab one. We might have to search places we haven't visited yet. Floo network is most likely not an option so we'll have to fly. First destination will be Diagon Alley. Second will be the Ministry. Maybe Gringotts had some luck in surviving this. I'd also reckon that the deeper Departments of the Ministry would make a fine fallout bunker. Now, get moving."

It was something like the single stone that got the avalanche running. All it took for them to get up, dust off and move on was direction and purpose. Harry knew that there were better leaders, tacticians and especially strategists out there than him, but he came to acknowledge over the years that he wasn't half bad at it. They needed something to do that got them away from the darker corners of their mind where their pulverized relatives, friends, fiances and lovers awaited them. He knew how much of a sinkhole despair could be and what a lifeline tasks and purpose could represent.

So they grabbed a broom each and went out of the door. Harry was the last one, since he had to do something he didn't want the others to see. With a flick of his wand he cast several Accios and the wands of the Professors lying dead on the floor came to him. Some spares wouldn't go amiss, he figured. He also got some more brooms, some cloaks and wizards hats that he shrunk to fit in his Auror robes. Who knew what awaited them out there?

Suddenly a shriek made him sprint outside. He knew it as Hermiones high pitched screech when she saw something that scared her to no end.

The group stood on the outside in the middle of rubble and grass, staring at something Harry couldn't make out in the glistering sunlight. He moved a bit closer and realized that it was a ghost. More importantly, one he didn't recognize as a Hogwarts ghost. Daphne talked to it and seemed close to tears, again.

"…so long, I don't even know the years." He heard the ghost speak.

"Make an estimate, please. This is important." Daphne urged the ghost. But the spirit gazed off to the horizon, Its ethereal hair floating around her face as she began to weep. Daphne tried to gain the ghosts attention again, but to no avail. She floated away, weeping her eternal sorrow. Harry was about to announce that they should haste and apparate to Diagon. Whatever the ghost had on information, it would be just as good to get it in London - or whatever was left of it.

But he was stopped in his track by the soft voice of a ghost he knew.

"Harry Potter," the Grey Lady, Helena Ravenclaw whispered. "It has been a long time."

He whirled around to look the ghost in the eyes. She was as beautiful, in her ghostly and sad way, as ever. "What happened?"

"The fires of hell consumed Hogwarts. Something collided with the wards, exploded and reduced the castle to dust."

"An atomic bomb, Helena" he whispered.

"I have heard of some of the new ghosts what those weapons were. Maybe Uncle Salazar was right all along?"

"I have problems arguing against that right now." He admitted."You have said a long time ago. We just woke up. It feels like the bomb dropped a few hours before."

"The Friar had made it a point to count the full moons. The last time I asked he was at a bit over two-thousand four-hundred."

"That's…" Hermione blurted out and then quickly divided the full-moons. She mouthed some numbers, then her eyes grew wide in shock. "TWO HUNDRED YEARS?!" she shouted over the soft hills of what was once Hogwarts.

"As I said, a long time." The Grey Lady nodded. "The first fifty years, silence reigned. The next fifty, scavengers came and would try to take the Hogwarts menhir. The following hundred years was another period of silence. Occasionally there would be Goblin hordes coming through, or herds of whatever the centaurs had become. They never said much when asked."

Hermione stepped next to Harry, her fingers almost twitching because they hadn't got a quill and parchment in them to take notes. "Wait a second. The Hogwarts menhir? Hogwarts has a menhir?"

"Yes, Mrs. Granger. It has powered this school since the day my mother and her friends had built it. But lately, it became weak. Weak enough to be just another block of stone with runes engraved in it."

"And what about those Goblin hordes? And the centaurs? Merlin… what…?"

Helena closed her eyes to think, before she began to whisper her answer. "The goblins seemed to have taken over Britain. I do not know much, but what they tell us gives reason to believe that there are no more humans on the isles. The centaurs…" she sighed loudly, as if bemoaning a great tragedy. "They have changed. Their lower bodies are like Sleipnir, with eight legs, their bodies are twisted things with three or more arms. They are hideous, vicious and nothing more than animals."

"Mutation…" Hermione whispered.

Harry stepped in again. He was sure when they were safe somewhere he would be glad to analyze everything with Hermione and the others, but time was of the essence. "Helena, what do you know about London? What about Diagon Alley and the Ministry. Hell, what about Beauxbatons, Durmstrang and the rest of Europe?"

The Grey Lady just shook her head. "There is nothing left, Harry. The last wizards I have seen came through here to cross the ocean to the new world. They were Germans, I think. They have told me that Durmstrang, Beauxbatons and every major wizarding community is gone. They were on their way to… oh, yes… this might interest you." She suddenly whirled around and flew through the floor. Not knowing what to do, Harry decided to stay for a bit.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

The brunette looked warily around her, waving her wand and mumbling a few spells Harry didn't know. "I don't get anything, but its a good bet that this area is irradiated. That could kill us, eventually. We should go."

"Wait a few more minutes. Helena sounded like she had something important for us."

"Alright… but we should haste. I don't know much about radiation other than 'Avoid it at all cost'."

"Promise. Once Helena is back we apparate somewhere else."

Hermione seemed like she just swallowed something profoundly disgusting as she spoke again, this time hushed. "Harry… I don't think we should apparate. The places we want to visit…. They don't exist anymore. Even without the bombs, it has been…" she took a deep, calming breath. "It has been 200 years. Who knows what has changed?"

With a hateful glance at the, now literally ancient Cleansweep Swifty in his hands he resigned. Just like most of the time, Hermione was right. He didn't survive the Apocalypse just to get impaled by apparating into something that wasn't there 200 years ago. "Good thinking, Hermione. Could you tell the others while I wait for Helena?"

"Alright, Harry." She said and turned around. She stopped and her head turned to look Harry in the eyes with her special 'I'm being dead serious' look. "We should move fast. Wrap this up quickly and then lets go."

"You got it."

Some minutes went by in which Harry heard the little group of survivors talk through their predicament. Sometimes, sobs could be heard, sometimes angry shouts. He already dreaded the first night that was about to come. When one tried to fall asleep, the horrors of the day came back and haunted you. He would make sure to lend a shoulder to cry on for anyone asking. It might even help him with his own buried grief.

Helena came out of a small hole in the ground where some stones that looked like they could have been stairs at one point reached down into the earth. It was a small hole, maybe big enough for a dog to crawl into. It was, however, also big enough to allow Helena to bring an envelope outside.

"A letter?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Indeed. I have opened the first one to arrive and then the next dozen. All stated the same. This is the most recent. It is two years old."

Harry grabbed the offered letter and looked it over. It was standard issue parchment, with black ink on it. The sigil was unbroken with no identification on it. On the front it stated that it was sent by a group calling themselves the "Salem Settlers".

"From the States," he mumbled while he ripped open the envelope. He took out the letter and looked it over once again before reading.

 _To whomever reads this._

 _Greetings survivors of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, Alexandria Libraries, the Ziggurat and other addresses we have sent these letters to._

 _If you read this, you have survived the madness of the muggles by some means and are magical of nature and blood. We are the Salem Settlers. We are a large group of wizards and witches from the east coast of the United States. We have rebuilt and fortified Salem in the Commonwealth (of Massachusetts). This is a call for all magicals of the world. We provide food, water, shelter as well as a large depot of wands and books in exchange for your help to rebuild magical society._

 _If you already have built a settlement, send word to us so that we may install trading routes and transportation to further the goals of both of our settlements._

 _If you are alone or in a group searching for help, make sure to take every bit of magical knowledge with you. Much will be forgotten after the fire brought upon us by the muggles, but we can start anew!_

 _Along with this letter we send you maps to guide you. The global map shows the quickest route from your current position to us. The map of the East Coast marks territories you ought to avoid. The local map of the Commonwealth shows you our exact location._

 _We send you our hopes and prayers so that you may find us in these dark times ahead._

 _Victor magisis, brothers and sisters._

Harry thanked Helena for the letter and made his way to the group, the Grey Lady right behind him. "I got some news, people. Listen up!"

He immediately got the attention of all of them and they were eager to hear what their de facto leader had to say.

"This is a letter from wizards and witches who have survived this. They have rebuilt the city of Salem and seemed to have managed to organize a new magical society."

"What about London, Diagon Alley, the Ministry?" Susan asked.

"Helena here reports that she has gathered information pointing towards the fact that there are no more humans in Britain."

"The bombs did the most damage, the rest was killed by the Goblins" the Grey Lady added.

"Right, so my view on the problem is as follows." He sighed deeply, hoping he could convey his message. "We have no way of knowing whats out there. Helena has told me that the last wizards she had seen had told her that wizarding Europe is just… gone. However, we have this letter stating that there are people in the States who rebuild. I suggest we follow the only lead we have."

"How?!" Daphne shouted. Her hair was a mess and the makeup she wore had run down her cheeks. "How do we get to the United States. Its not like the ICW…" but she didn't finish. She just dropped to her knees and wept.

Harry decided to let her be, for the moment. Hermione had been right. Technically they stood in the middle of an atomic detonation crater, even though the bomb detonated at the wards, a few hundred meter above them. So as cruel as it was, he ignored Daphne's emotions for the time being and focused on getting them moving.

"There is a map included in the letter. The wizards of Salem suggest a route over the north. First we fly to the Faeroe Isles, then Iceland, Greenland, Canada and finally, the States. We have brooms so it shouldn't be a problem with enough warming charms."

"How and what are we gonna eat? Where are we gonna sleep? Harry, this seems awfully rushed." Hermione stepped in.

"We can hunt. There is still wildlife out there. We sleep where we land, with people on the lookout at all times. And yes, I know this is rushed but what else are we gonna do?"

"I…" Hermione sighed. She threw her arms in the air, surrendering to his plan. "But I'm telling you this is going to be rough."

He couldn't quite hold back the chuckle at that. "Have you looked around you, Hermione?" with a wide gesture he pointed at the distinct absence of a castle. "Of course it will be rough. Its going to be rough for every single day from now on. Our Horcrux hunt is going to look like a family vacation compared to whats coming." He then sighed again, took a knee and gestured the others to follow suit. He wanted them close for what he had to say next.

"Listen, we are the only people each of us still has. We are all there is left for each end every one of us. If you tell me you have a better idea, spill it. I'm just going with the flow here, taking things as they come and right now, this plan seems like the only thing we can do, other than simply surviving. But I need you for this because to survive, each of us needs everybody else. So, tell me, are you with me?"

Nobody spoke, and most of them, kneeling in a circle, tried to process what he had just said. It took nearly a minute of silence before Lilith spoke up.

"I'm with you, Harry. I have learned to trust my guts. I'm an oracle and my guts provide some insight, if I say so myself. In both cases I see hardship, but only with your plan I see light at the end. I believe we must go to Salem."

"If Lilith says we should go, I trust her." Susan said quickly. "Not that I don't trust you, harry. Its just…"

"I get it…" Harry interrupted before she could go on. He let his eyes glance over the rest of them. Daphne met his eyes and his heart broke at the sight. She was a strong woman, a fierce fighter and a great duelist. Having her sit before him, utterly defeated and crying, was nothing short of crushing.

"I'm w- with you…" Daphne choked out with a heavy sob following.

"Me too." Neville had found his voice again. "If the Grey Lady is right, this sounds like a good enough option, all things considered. However, we should still look for loot in the Ministry. You may be able to fly on this thing to the States, but I and some of the others aren't as good as you on a broom."

"Got it, Neville." Harry nodded. "We'll look for useful stuff before we go. At least we should try and salvage what we can from the libraries in the Department of Mysteries."

"We also wanna take a look at where my joke shop was." George Weasley chipped in. "I had a hidden basement. My workshop was there. Maybe some of that stuff is still useful for our journey?"

"Good idea." Harry said and then eyed up the last two people who still had to agree. His best friend didn't take long, as expected.

"You know I would never let you out of my sight on something like this. Honestly!" Hermione tried to be serious, but the small smile on her face negated that effect quite well.

"I've never been to the United States. Maybe they got some interesting animals?" Luna breathed. With determination she gave a single nod and her hand became a fist. "Yes. A vacation to the States would be delightful."

"Its not exactly going to be a vacation." Neville said and gently padded the blondes back.

"Not with that attitude, it won't." she gave back.

Harry could have kissed the quirky blonde at this point. She had made them all laugh, effectively banishing the sour mood away. It had cleansed the way for what they had to do.

"Helena," Harry said to the Grey Lady. "We'll come back one last time before we are off. To say goodbye."

"That would be most polite, Harry." She whispered in her trademark way and then grew more transparent as she flew off.

"Alright then. Lets go, mount your brooms and go through your disillusionment charms on the way. We're gonna do this quick and clean. Ready?"

"Ready!" came the chorus of his seven comrades as they jumped off the floor and flew south towards London.

OOO

 **Three Days later**

It was defeating to see what had happened to Britain. They were sitting in a cave, north to the ruins of Hogwarts and prepared for the flight to the Faeroe Isles. Harry had been able to hunt some deer and Luna had found some wild vegetables they could put under stasis charms and eat once they reached the small archipelago.

Harry chopped up the two headed deer as if in trance. His hands moved without his guidance, cutting tendrils and muscles. It was quiet in the cave, everybody did something to prepare them for their journey, and everybody thought about what they had seen.

London was nothing more than a pile of rubble. They had seen two craters and soon after forgot all about looking into the Ministry. The bomb had pulverized White Chapel and with it, the Ministry. Their next stop hadn't been better, but for entirely different reasons. Diagon Alley had been overrun by Goblins and their pet-trolls. It was the core of their city and the middle of a wide field of shacks, caves and huts. The moment the little bastards had seen them, they had opened fire with everything they had. The Alley was now a construct of ruins and caves from where Goblins streamed like ants. However, a lot of the shops had been intact as far as their structures went.

In the darkest of nights, Harry and George had disillusioned themselves and sneaked through the Alley where huge trolls patrolled and the lesser Goblins slept on the streets. Every step they took they had made sure to sidestep the bones and trash that was everywhere. They had maneuvered through a labyrinth of grim, gore and brutality. It had reminded Harry about the things he had heard about the Goblin Rebellions. What was written on parchment couldn't even begin to describe the savagery of Goblins once released from the shackles of Gringotts. They had witnessed cold-blooded murder, cannibalism and rape just by walking from where the Leaky Cauldron once was to the ruins of Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes.

Once inside George did a quick check-up on his stash. He tossed aside what was useless, even though Harry suspected that he sneaked some pranking articles into his pockets. Harry just hoped it wasn't some potion. No matter how well brewed, potions just didn't hold two-hundred years. In the end they left with some books on Arithmancy, Charms and Runes, some more clothes and a bunch of newer, if still rather slow, brooms.

Once they had met up again with their group at the top of the Big Ben ruins, they had made their silent way home. Seeing London and the entire United Kingdom in such a state did a number on his group and Harry just hoped, no, prayed that he could lead them to a better future.

In any case, a better future was not what went through his groups heads. Daphne hadn't stopped crying, she just stopped producing tears after a while. Harry grew more worried with every minute that went by without her sobbing and whimpering. He sliced through a strong muscle and finally got the rear separated from the rest of the deer. A flick of his wand and the juicy, if slightly irradiated meat was in a preservation charm. They were normally used to secure evidence, but Harry figured that a charm that prevented a corpse from rotting would do just fine to get the meat over the next week.

Behind him Neville was rummaging through the pile of clothes they had found in Georges stash. They were mostly made of fine material, in flashy colors and fine linings. They were robes and cloaks used for presentation and balls, not exactly the best to ward off icy cold weather. However, enough layer of them and liberal use of warming charms would do the trick. He hoped, at least.

Just next to him Hermione was trying to figure out some way to make their old brooms fly by themselves while serving as rune cluster-points for a forcefield that should ward them against snowstorms and other weather. Harry didn't have enough understanding of the subject, but he was relatively sure that Hermione just did anything to not think about their situation too much. When he thought about it, she didn't talk about anything else the last three days other than how they would be able to cross the Atlantic. Years of friendship had taught him that this wasn't good. It was on the same level of horrible as a Daphne that didn't make a sound.

However, Hermione was at least not as annoying as Susan who seemed to try to survive on positive vibes. 'But at least we didn't…' was her favorite way to start a sentence, it seemed. Usually something forcefully positive followed. It had taken her until London, when she saw the new Goblin city, that her denial was broken and she couldn't find any good in what she saw before her. The following three hours she had cried her eyes out.

The only two who appeared to have reached some sort of acceptance for the situation were Luna and Lilith, closely followed by George who lost himself in tasks like producing a magical compass or helping out with the warming charms. The quirky Professor for Care of Magical Creatures and the Divination Professor were talking about the many interesting creatures that lived in Greenland while they held vigil over the meat that was cooking over the fire. Harry hoped their carefree nature would rub off to the rest of the group. He knew Luna well enough to know that she was in pain, but he also knew that in many ways she was stronger than all of them. She had kept her sanity in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. She had endured year after year of vicious bullying. She had seen friends die in battle and had killed during the same. Yet, her nature prevented her from giving up. She looked forward and beyond. Harry felt that this was her most admirable trait.

Meals came as mostly unwelcome distractions for the group. It took Harry near violent force to get Daphne to eat. She was drawing into herself and hadn't looked anyone in the eyes for the last day. She was weak and pale, her eyes were red from the crying and her voice, if she spoke at all, raspy and without any sort of emotion.

Given the last days Harry hadn't much hope for this dinner of deer meat and water. It was the last before they would begin their journey to the United States and the tension in the air was feasible. Nobody looked up from the meager meal and even Harry didn't speak for the longest time. But he had to make a point to them. It was his lot in life to be the spear, the leader of any group he was part of. He had accepted that during the Battle of Hogwarts and embedded it in his mind and heart during Auror training. He was Harry Potter and he had to lead those people to better lives. The last piece of meat proved hard to chew as he thought about words. They needed to be on point. With a last, painful swallow he forced the meat into his stomach. Then he whipped his mouth with his shirt and looked up to the group. They all had rings under their eyes. They all looked tired, not exhausted but tired of the situation and their lot in life.

Just five days ago, for them, Hermione had told him about Ron proposing to her. No more Ron and no more dreams of silent nights with red-haired children running around in their flat. No more fighting for the rights of elves and no more ambitions to become the first female, muggleborn Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.

Just five days ago, Daphne had been the life of the DMLE, was near a promotion for her exceptional work and on the best way to break free of the pureblood shackles her parents had lain onto her. She had gushed about her flat in Aberdeen and the first movie she had seen in a cinema that was now buried somewhere beneath thick layers of dust.

Just five days ago, Susan had been the Head of House Hufflepuff and the pride of the British Runes society. She had an essay published and was about to write a book on modern Futhark. All that was for nothing, dust in the radiation storms that howled down in the South.

Just a few weeks ago, Neville had been at Grimmauld Place searching for help, answers and firewhiskey. Hannah had been expecting. He had been about to become a father. He had a family - wife and child - burned away in atomic fire.

Just a month ago, George had finally begun to produce new products. He had married Alicia, joked around, pranked all his guests with canary wedding cake and it had seemed like he had, after all these years of pain, found equilibrium and peace. Now he once again grieved for his family, old and new. For his friends and partners. For the child he would never have with Alicia. For Arthur and Molly and Billy and Fleur and Percy and Ron and Ginny.

 _Oh Ginny_ Harry felt the blunt force of his sorrow hit him at the memory. They had broken up, just a pause really, to get their affairs and minds in order. They had wanted to think what each of them wanted from life. Harry wanted to see the world a bit. Ginny wanted a family. She had wanted some small Harrys and Ginnys running around Potter Manor and she wanted Harry out of Grimmauld Place to reside in the ancestral home of his fathers family. He hadn't been sure back then what he wanted from life. He had flirted a bit with Daphne, but never planned on getting serious with the beautiful Auror. He had wanted family, just not yet.

They all had lost so much and were loosing as they ate and more and more memories surfaced. When they came back, they had buried the Professors whom by then lay out in the open. The Room of Requirements had collapsed. Seeing the small hills where their older comrades lay in peace brought home the dire message. They were alone. They only had each other. Harry had felt it and was sure the others had too. What he had to make sure of was that they knew that survival was the only option. Giving up, admitting defeat in the face of overwhelming odds would simply not do. They were all in their early twenties and there was just too much life left for them to life to give up now.

"Everybody," he said and had to cough. He hadn't used his voice all that much this day. "Everybody, listen, please."

Harry waited for them to look up from their meals and wouldn't back down before all gave him their attention. The first were Luna and Lilith, both of them actually smiling in that sad, but all the more brave way. The last was what was left of Daphne. The spirit she had once in her eyes was gone. They were dull, milky and red and looked through him to somewhere only she could see. The bit of meat in her hands had been left untouched.

"Listen… we all lost so much, I… I just wanted to say, that I'm proud of you. The last three days were… hard and… exhausting and… and they broke our heart and spirits… and hope. All we have is a foolish plan to ride old brooms to the new world, some clothes and our wands and… and each other." Harry decided to stand up. On one side it would get pressure of his chest and stomach, on the other hand, he wanted to stand proud. He wanted them to see that they could trust him, rely on him and lean on him. He would be the boulder on which they could rebuild themselves.

"We must not despair! You hear me?" he said louder than he intended. "We must not let this tragedy rob us of our life. I am… confident that we can get through this. But I need each and every one of you to be strong for each other. I need you to remember that we are given this chance and those we have lost would want us to try and make it through so that we can live on. Live on for them and for us. Our lives have been one of hardship, but remember all the good times that came after these days of challenge. They can come again. If we work hard enough, if we refuse to give up, we can see the light at the horizon, I'm sure of it!"

He then gestured at all of them, a wide wave of his arms that ended with an inviting, open pose. "You are the last I have in this world. I promise you here and now that I will defend and protect you with all I have. I promise you that my decisions and actions are and will always be for the best of this group."

Harry sighed and relished the smiles he had produced on Luna and Lilith, on Hermione and even on George, Susan and Neville. But most of all, he cheered inside when he saw Daphne nibbling on her meat, eating with small bites. It was a start, a good one at that. "We need our strength tomorrow. I say we go to bed early. I'll…"

"Harry, look." Luna interrupted and pointed behind him. When he turned his head he saw the Grey Lady hovering at the entrance, Nearly Headless Nick right behind her.

"Helena, Sir Nicholas. Have you come to say goodbye?"

The Grey Lady shook her head and gifted him one of her rare smiles. "Quite the contrary, Harry. We have come to ask a favor."

"How may we help you?"

"We have heard your speech, it was… a bit much… but inspiring nonetheless." Sir Nicholas said with his head held high.

"Thank you," Harry said and beckoned them in to join their group. "Join us and tell us about this favor you ask."

"It is maybe a bit imposing of us." Helena whispered.

"Don't you think that we are past that point, Helena?"

She shrugged and gave that shy smile Harry knew the heir to Ravenclaw for. "It is a big favor to ask."

"I am, we all are still indebted to you for showing me where the diadem was. And anyway, worst case is that we say no."

"Indeed, Mr. Potter. Helena, please go ahead. You are better with these things, milady." Sir Nicholas said.

The Grey Lady took a deep breath, despite her lack of lungs and rubbed her hands together while she formed her words. She then looked at the group of living in the cave, sitting around the fire, and exhaled loudly before she spoke. "We ask to leave, Harry."

"Leave? As in, leave Hogwarts?"

"What Hogwarts? There is nothing left!" Helena blurted out. Her voice was suddenly loud and a hysteric undertone could be heard. "We have nothing to do, nothing to see and I catch myself staring at one point for weeks before I snap out of it. I am… we are going insane here, Harry. Two-HUNDRED years of nothing to do, nothing to see, nobody to talk to. No questioning Raveclaws, no foolish Gryffindors, no scheming Slytherins and no Hufflepuffs to have fun with. The other ghosts may be happy with just basking in their sorrow, but not us!"

"Calm yourself, Helena. What is it we can do?"

"We would need to relocate, Mr. Potter" Sir Nicholas chipped in. "And for that to work we would need our anchors, the part of out soul that clings to a place, to be taken away from here."

"There are only two ways to do it and one is impossible while the other won't be to your liking, Harry." Helena whined, her eyes downcast and face twisted in sadness.

"Let me be the judge of that. How would we go about that?" Harry asked before Helena could pull away again.

"Possession," Hermione whispered. "You want to take a ride in one or two of our bodies?"

Helena nodded and Sir Nicholas followed her in looking down to the ground. "I am ashamed to say that we had hoped that at least one of you would allow this to happen."

"Its dangerous," Hermione gave back, with more heat than necessary, Harry thought. "We could loose ourselves in this! Our personality could wither away!"

"We are well aware of the dangers Mrs. Granger. Its not just your personality that could be jeopardized. However, we are talking about weeks, maybe one or two months of travel. One would need at least a year to loose himself in a possession. Even a cretin like Quirrel withstood longer. We promise, we will hold ourselves in the background of your thoughts during the journey."

Helena flew forward. Her hands were clenched together, begging them to hear her out. "Please! I cannot spend eternity here. If you cannot help us, I don't know what else to do! We're going insane. Please!"

"I'll do it!" Harry decided.

"What?! Harry!"

"Its the right thing to do, Hermione." He cut her off before her rant could even start.

"Fine, but then I'll take Helena with me. If you do it, I'll do it!" And with a huff she sat down and the Granger Council, its single member, had decided.

"So… how exactly does one get possessed?" he asked the two ghosts. Helena looked gobsmacked at them and Sir Nicholas had a face-splitting grin on his face.

"Oh, its easy, Mr. Potter. Just… stand still." He said and suddenly, the ghost began to dissolve before him.

Harry felt the restless soul come into his body and it reminded him of a certain soul-splinter in his head. It was the same feeling he had remembered the day it had left his head. Back then it had been like a weight he had carried his entire life lifted itself and now, that weight was back.

 _Can you hear me, Mr. Potter?_ The voice of Nick echoed in his thoughts.

"Oh, wow." _Yes, Nick… I can hear you._

 _Very good. Please inform me immediately of any changes in your normal behavior. It would simply not do to have a Sir Nicholas Potter roaming around the States._

 _Agreed._

"This feels… odd." Hermione said as Helena dissolved into her. "Is it supposed to feel odd? Oh, hi, Helena…"

Harry then turned around to the group who looked at the two friends as if they'd just ran around starkers while singing the Hogwarts anthem. Harry grinned at them and slowly, while shaking their heads and mumbling about what an reckless idiot he was, they began to smile as well.

"What? I said this group is all I have. And if two souls decide to join, I won't say no."

OOO

Flying over open water was the single most exciting and terrifying thing Harry had ever done on a broom. The dementors had nothing on the awesome threat of the deep blue ocean underneath them. He had taken a last glimpse of the shore of Scotland and hour before looking North to where a small archipelago came into view. At their height, Hermione had suspected, they would be able to see from shore to shore. She had also deduced that from the shore of Scotland to the first isle of the Faeroe, they would have to fly at least seven hours to reach them. She had also pointed out that this wasn't even their longest flight over open water. Their flight over the Labrador Sea would take a full day, seventeen hours, of flight. The prospect was scary for him to imagine. He didn't really want to think about how Neville or Daphne would do on a flight like that.

 _If we'd just had some Firebolts, or at least a Nimbus. Hell, I'd give anything for a flying carpet right about now._ Harry thought. The slow brooms they sat on, more designed for relaxed and leisure flying, capped out where a Firebolt just began and forced them to endure long times on cushioning charms.

They also didn't have as strong windshield charms as a Firebolt, he cursed in his mind while tightening the scarf made of a cloak around his face. Warming Charms were one thing, but the wind clashing against him was just all the more annoying for it.

Eleven days was the estimate for their journey. Two-hundred and four hours of wind and weather against them, blue ocean beneath them and merely the faint hope that there was something waiting keeping their eyes on the goal.

Three and a half hours later, they landed near an intact house on the first island with even the most meager of civilizations ghosts upon it. Around him the others sat down, completely exhausted and glad to have earth back under their feet.

 _This was the shortest of the flights to come._ Came the traitorous thought of doubt in his head. The flight tomorrow would have them sit on the brooms for over four hours. _Days of challenge, indeed._

He had the least problem with the flight. After all, he has had Quidditch games that took longer and were far more exhausting than a fly over the North Sea. So while his group stretched and moaned, he opened the lock on the door of the house and stepped into the small shack. It was simple in its decorations and furniture, but the chairs were cozy and the pillows on it looked like they would make for a great place to sleep once dried off. In the corner stood a terminal. One of those fancy new inventions he had seen the last time he was at the Dursley's. Dudley had gotten one to his birthday and managed to break the thing in a weeks time. He had failed to understand the simple way of making it do what he wanted and broke the screen in the process. Harry himself had never bothered with them. He was a wizard and enjoyed his life away from muggle society.

The interesting thing about them was that the products of one special company, one located in the United States, was immune to magic. That had been one time where the Statute of Secrecy almost broke. Some of his colleagues didn't bother checking on the terminals and left the footage of the video feed on them intact, figuring that their magic had brunt through the circuit boards anyway. The terminal that stood now before Harry was from the same company. RobCo , if he remembered correctly.

Harry went on to look at the next room. The door stood slightly open. He moved through the doorframe and freezed when he saw what was inside. On a single, two-person bed lay two skeletons, hugging each other. They were covered in rags and damp blankets were around their hips. In the hand of the bigger skeleton that held the smaller one close to his ribcage, Harry found a small, tin box. On its etiquette he read 'Abraxo Rat Poison'. With a heavy sigh, Harry started to levitate them outside of the house when he saw a cassette on the table next to a dresser. It was one of those holotapes the muggles used to store information. He picked it up on his way out. There was a backdoor from the kitchen to a broken down hut that could have been a stable once. There he placed the skeletons onto the soil. A quick wave of his wand and a slightly overpowered Vanishing Charm produced two holes. Harry hesitated, waved his wand again and the wall between the holes was gone. He lowered the skeletons in them, summoned the earth back over them and then left the nameless grave.

 _Great tragedy reflects in the smallest of merciless fates, Godric once said. Nowadays I come to understand what he meant._ Sir Nicholas whispered in Harry's mind. Harry could just nod.

The holotape was still in his hands when he came back into the house. His group had already gathered there and prepared themselves for the night. If they'd huddle together, five could find a place on the bed while the other three, probably the men, would find rest on the armchairs. He placed the tape next to the terminal and already wanted to busy himself with making dinner when Hermione grabbed the holotape and begun to fuss over the terminal.

"Hermione, its been two hundred years, I don't thi…"

He was rather rudely cut off by the victorious smirk of Hermione when the terminal surged back into life. She inserted the holotape. It clicked, rumbled a bit and then the room was filled with the recorded voices of a woman. Her voice was frail, despairing and merely a whisper. "This is Fera Bjergsson to whomever this reaches. We from the village Sumba on the southern isle of the Faeroe need help. Our supplies run low and we have lost contact with everyone. Please we…" she cut off with a heavy sob. "We… We are dying. Our food runs low and we have butchered the last of our livestock. We have sent men with our fisher boats but they never came back. The fuel's gone and… I… please, somebody help. Anybody… please."

The recording stopped with a click and the following silence was like torture. It was so easy to forget in their own endeavors of survival that others had already failed at that task. Their failure was not for a lack of trying, but merely because they were confronted with overwhelming odds.

"Now that was… depressing." George said. He was the first to move and grab a pan, some of the food he had been carrying and began to summon stones and wood from the broken down stable to build a fireplace.

Harry grabbed the holotape the moment Hermione pulled it out of the machine and made his way to the nameless grave. The grabbed a plank and his wand. In the damp wood, grinded by centuries of rain, salt and snow, he etched the name of whom he suspected to lay there.

 _Mr. And Mrs. Bjergsson. May they rest in peace._

He could feel Sir Nichola's approval in his head. Satisfied with his work he rammed the plank into the earth. He stood there, contemplating and imagining the last days of these peoples lives for he knew not how long. He smelled meat cooking when he decided to come back into the house. Hermione was sitting at the terminal, rummaging through text after text with Luna and Lilith behind her. Susan was preparing some snacks for the flight tomorrow while George and Neville busied themselves with the meat. Only Daphne sat in the armchair, doing nothing but staring at the wall. Harry decided then and there that she needed to snap out of this. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but at the very least when they reached Cape Farvel at the south of Greenland. One couldn't fly seventeen hours without purpose in front of oneself.

"Daphne;" he whispered to get her attention. When she didn't seem to recognize that somebody had so much as spoken to her, he grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at him. They were as milky as yesterday, but even more devoid of emotion. Simple balls of white and blue with a black dot in the middle were her eyes. There was nothing left what would prompt one to call them the gate to the soul.

"Daphne," he sighed, "lets talk. Alright?" Not even waiting for an answer he pulled her up, linked her arm in his and took her for a walk around the house. The scenery was beautiful. Harry could see why people chose to live here in the middle of the North Sea. The isles had something mystical about them as they lay there in the middle of the blue of the sea, with faint fog caressing the green fields.

"Why?" Daphne breathed, so silent that he barely understood her.

"Why what?"

"Why are we clinging to a life like this?" she asked, and her eyes locked onto something in the far distance. "I have seen the poison. I know those muggles took fate into their own hands."

"They accelerated their fate, if anything, Daphne. You heard the recording." He forced back at her. "We, however, have a chance of more."

"More of what, Harry? More scavenging? More killing poisoned deer for food? More crawling in the dirt like animals!? More of housing in shacks and caves like trolls with clothes that stink that it rivals their stench?!" her voice grew loud and with every bit of volume, hysterics came with it.

"More of us!" he shouted back.

Daphne took a step back, her mouth hanging open a little. "What do you mean?" she whispered.

Harry sighed. "What I mean is that I refuse to end it like this." He laughed a humorless laugh, and forced the tears in his eyes back that threatened to fall. "My entire life… all twenty years of it, I have fought. When I was little, I fought to stay sane while my relatives abused me. I fought in Hogwarts through all that shit Voldemort threw at me. Through all the slander and rumors, the unwanted fame and the pain of many a good man falling because of me. Then I come out victorious and all I get is a lousy golden medal and more problems than before to boot."

Harry then sagged, tension leaving his body as he gathered the words to continue. "I just refuse to let this be it. I refused when I was hit with the Killing Curse in the Forbidden Forest and I refuse now. I want more out of this life than hardship. I want… just… more… you know?"

Daphne shook her head and in her eyes the first tears for days welled up. "I don't see it, Harry."

"Then let me show you." He gave back and opened his arms. She didn't wait long and fell into the hug, sobbing any crying onto him. Her fingers clawed into his back, but he didn't mind. It was a good first step to get Daphne back, even though he was sure that she would never return to her old, cheerful days. He had seen those eyes before. Sirius had them after his escape from Azkaban. Andromeda and many others had them after the war. They spoke of defeat and pain that no human should ever have to suffer. Most of all, Harry knew that these eyes needed something to look upon and those people's hands needed a lifeline to grab onto. Sirius had his vengeance and his godson, Andromeda had Teddy and Daphne would get Harry.

This night Daphne didn't let go of him. Not during the meal where she sat next to him and not during the night where she held guard with him and nestled herself next to him onto an armchair. Harry didn't mind being her pillow and faithful shoulder to cry on. He lost enough tears in her hair and shoulders himself.

OOO

The next days were an exercise in patience on more levels than Harry cared to count. Rain, wind and snow allied together to make their trip as miserable as possible. Even through their shielding, their clothes became damp and the hours in the air stretched and stretched.

Iceland was just another graveyard. However, a graveyard with some supplies left laying around and something that Hermione called "Rad-Away". It was a brownish goo, packed in drips and according to Hermione was used to wash radiation out of a bodies system for good. To emphasize this she was the first to undergo the procedure. The following hours in the bathroom for everyone was just an indicator for how much radiation had been in their cells, once again, according to Hermione.

They had found a half-ruined hotel and for the first time in some days, everybody had their own beds. Daphne still insisted on sleeping at Harry's side and to his surprise and pleasure, Hermione chose to join them. Harry had no objections. Warming Charms were fine and all, but nothing beat the warmth of a body and the comfort of equally beaten souls to hold onto.

The trip from Iceland to the coast of Greenland was filled with the same horrible weather and a tension in the group that Harry blamed the nearing big obstacle for. The Labrador Sea was the only thing anybody talked about since Hermione had announced during their scavenge of Reykjavik that the flight would probably be the hardest. Harry had some strict words for her after that. It wasn't the most motivating thing for someone troubled with flying for 5 hours, to hear that this wasn't even close to the worst to come.

During their flight along the coast of Greenland, further south, they also spotted wildlife nobody knew anything about. Enormous colonies of huge crab-like beings could be seen walking up and down the coast. Hagrid would have loved the flesh-eating, murderous killercrabs, Harry mused while he heard Hermione mumbling about developing a special spell just for the extermination of those animals.

Two days went by before they finally reached Cape Farvel. From there, the global map drawn by the Americans pointed them south-west, over the sea. This was it, the Labrador sea and the seventeen hours of exhausting flight.

They had used their fear and doubt to design plans for the following day. They bound their brooms together and themselves to them. If one would collapse, the others could carry them the remaining way. But they needed to get as far as possible without anyone fainting. In order to do so, they flew around the fjords and peaks until they spotted a village. There they rested for five days, stocked up on their supply of meat and reapplied their warming charms. Harry ordered them to gather energies, eat much and rest most of the day. It was all he could do and yet, he felt no more easy than two weeks earlier when they had first discussed this problem.

The day started out with thick clouds over them, but no rain or overly brutal wind. Nobody said much while they bound themselves to each other with rope and magic. At this point they had done it so often, they knew which end went where and their safety measures looked as good as they got when they lifted into the air. Daphne and Lilith were beside Harry. They were arguably the weakest. Daphne because she was privy to give up, given her mental state. Lilith because she was petite, thin and had close to no endurance. The seven hour flights they had mastered while traveling the coast had made her fall asleep at the spot they landed. Harry didn't think she would be able to go on for very much longer, even if she was well rested now.

They flew for two hours before the landmass of Greenland was hidden behind the horizon. It had begin to softly rain, but the wind blew at their backs and gave them a bit more speed and much less to fight against.

Five hours later they reached their record for the longest flight in one go. Lilith appeared to be half gone at this point. She barely kept her eyes open and often just dozed off and let Harry and Hermione handle her broom. The others were just slightly better off. Neville groaned and moaned, George became awfully silent and Susan slapped herself from time to time to stay awake and on target. Daphne held Harry's gaze with stoic calm.

 _She expects you all to die, Mr. Potter_ Nick echoed in him.

 _We won't,_ was the single most important and strongest thought in him. _I refuse!_ They couldn't turn back at this point. The only way was forward and there he would move them all by himself if he had to.

At the ten hour mark, Lilith slumped onto her broom and was out cold.

At twelve hours, Daphne fainted onto her broom, only the ropes holding her in the air. The rest of them had started to hit each other with spells to keep them awake.

Fourteen hours went by and the only thing keeping them up was Hermione's stubbornness, Harry's iron will and Neville's tenacity. They had gone to actually vicious, pain inducing spells. Anything to get them to not fall asleep. Hermione recited arithmantic formulas to herself, runic alphabets and their meanings, wand movements and the Prime Ministers of Britain in chronological order. Harry repeated the names of his group. _Hermione, Daphne, Neville, George, Luna, Lilith, Susan, Helena, Nick, Hermione, Daphne,…_

They would not die, not on his watch. And they were so close! After another hour, Harry laughed when he saw the coast on the horizon. It was a manic laughter, speaking of his exhaustion, but he couldn't hold it back. Hermione joined in after she saw the first signs of land and so did Neville after he made out the forests. Just another two hours, just a bit more.

The last two hours were a blur to him. The rain became stronger and the wind blew from the side as they came near the coast. He heard Hermione cry and Neville curse. He felt himself grow weaker by the minute.

He barely registered when they crashed onto the sandbank. The moment his head hit the sand, he fainted.

OOO

"WE MADE IT!"

Harry started up from where he laid and nearly choked himself with rope. "What? Wha…" he stammered but he didn't get much further before body after body slammed into him, hugging him and ruffling his hair.

"HOLY MERLIN AND HIS UNDIES! WE MADE IT!" Harry now recognized the voice as George's.

"We did it, Harry." Daphne whispered in his right ear and then hugged him again as if he would vanish the next moment. "We really did it."

It took them a good hour before everybody had enough of hugging and shouting their relief to the world. Their stomachs were empty and all of them were sore, beaten and the last three of them who had carried the rest over the last miles had also residual magic beating them down. Some of those spells they had used were known for leaving marks and Harry spent hours mending his scars and wounds from nasty curses. But it was worth it.

After some days of regeneration, they continued their journey. However, this time, with no amount of stress. They took their time and traveled in four hour trips per day south along the coast. Harry got the east-coast map out and followed the advice on it by the dot. They steered clear of any signs of civilization in Nova Scotia or the Bay of Fundy. The map warned them about "bandits and other dangers" in Maine and New Hampshire.

After another five days of flying, they finally could go to the last of their maps. The map of Massachusetts showed them the quickest route to the Salem settlement. The mood in the group was never higher since their awakening in the Room of Requirement. They flew along the last hundreds of meter of the sandy coast, enjoying the sun and celebrating their final destination.

Then they landed on the spot the map indicated. It was a destroyed city like all the others before them. They hopped off their brooms and looked around, but saw nothing but rubble, destroyed walls and collapsed roofs. Hermione also found some representatives of her newfound most hated animal in the world.

"Ye better get runnin' or them Mirelurks gon'…" came from somewhere around them but the voice was quickly silenced by the vicious salve of reducto curses against the crabs. They splattered into a hundred pieces each as the yellow curses hit them.

"I!" Hermione shouted and fired another reducto at a particularly huge crab.

"BLOODY!" another reducto in a group of the beasts.

"HATE CRABS!" With a final, echoing explosion a last group of crabs decorated the walls of the nearby buildings with their innards.

"Know what, lady? Nevermind." The voice laughed.

Harry whirled around like the others to look for the man with the heavy American accent. They found him in a house that was surrounded by a fence as he descended the stairs. A few second later he stepped out of the fence-gate and waved at them with a big smile on his face. He took the outstretched hand of Harry and shook it hard and welcoming. He did the same with the others, however he refrained from trying to rip their hands out when he shook the hands of the women.

"Names Barney Rook, and here with me is my girl, Reba. We're the Salem Militia, only members." He said, still smiling like the cat that got the canary. "Did a number on those mirelurks, lady. Can respect that."

"Its nice to meet you Mr. Rook…" Harry started, unsure how to ask him about the Settlers.

"Ah, none of that Mr. I'm Barney, boy."

"I'm Harry, once again, nice to meet you." He looked around and wanted to start asking when Daphne took the words from his mouth.

"Where is everybody?" she demanded.

Barney took to looking up and down them, one by one and especially at their wands and brooms in their hands. One could see the wheels grinding in his head before he seemed to have come to an conclusion. "Ah, you people be some o' those… well, you're outta luck. Big chunk o' them be gone now for a good half year. Last guy they left never made it out of that Raider whorehouse, 'm afraid."

"What do you mean, gone? Where to?" Daphne pressed on.

"Nah, no where. They shot each other with those sticks of yours. Nasty business I tell ya. Some funny speaking guys… burmans, or someat got here on the same flyin' things. Got in a bit of a fight about some books they brought. Didn' understand most o' it. End of story is that they blasted each other with green light to the last man standin'."

Daphne went to her knees, hugged herself close and just seemed to shut off. Neville and George sat down on a bench nearby and closed their eyes while Susan already wanted to start a sentence with 'At least…' before Hermione glared her down. Luna and Lilith seemed to just stop feeling anything and looked at Barney with expressionless eyes.

"Did they…" Harry began, furiously pressing down despair and disappointment. "Did they… leave something? Anything?"

Barneys eyes wandered up as he thought a bit. "Well, if you're lookin for some beds or sumthin', then no. But they got sum room under the church that I never could enter. Also brought the Raiders and the Children in a bit of a tizzy that one. Can't open it, can't break the lock, can't dig into it. Some nut tried ta blow a hole in it. Blasted his guts from here to Diamond city in the process."

"Can you show us?"

"'Course I can. Follow me."

The room proved to be locked with magic, as Harry had suspected. With a simple Alohomora, the lock broke and stairs into the crypta of the church opened up underneath the trapdoor. They had left their group behind and just Harry and Hermione made their way into the room. It was hard, on Harry and he suspected on Hermione just as much. They soldiered on through simple force of will.

Their spirits should soon be lifted as Barney showed them around a corner of the crypta into the part that seemed to served as a warehouse, library and potions workshop all in one. The shelves were full of ingredients and finished potions. They had wood for a base of transfiguration, rolls after rolls of parchments and crates full off raw material used for all kinds of rituals, transmutations and crafting. The potions workshop was equipped with the right tools and a small set of different cauldrons. But the biggest surprise was the massive shelves and big piles of books that were everywhere. Most of them were around a desk with a terminal of all things on it and piles of notes littered around. Harry could barely hold Hermione from jumping head first into the books. Her eyes shone with the prospect of searching through this library, all disappointment forgotten.

Harry let out a sigh of relief. What would he had done if the whole of the settlement was gone? What would have happened if all were for naught? He couldn't imagine Daphne surviving if they'd have find out that there was nothing, let alone finding it in her to build something from it. It would have broken all their spirits and in the end, their will to survive. But this in front of him gave him hope. The crypta was a start, a way to make it work. He felt horrible for thinking it, but in the end they didn't need anyone else than themselves.

He was ripped from his musing when he heard screams from outside following gunshots. They shared a quick look and then dashed for the upper level of the church. Barney unlocked his rifle and Harry drew his wand, ready to defend his people against anything.

They stormed out of the church and were greeted with the sight of two men in suits flying through the air. A sickening crunch was heard when their heads collided with concrete walls. In the middle of the field was the whirling form of Daphne. Her face was twisted in rage and anguish and she didn't bother with Stunners. The men in suits exploded with reductos, were cut open with Sectumsempra and one man was being clawed to pieces by a transfigured lion.

Harry jumped into the fray and quickly dispatched of two men in suits with quick piercing hexes. The small stream of light punctured their bodies just like bullets would and made them sink to the ground.

It was over as fast as it begun. Harry counted a dozen men lying on the floor with various degrees of blood streaming from their bodies. Only one was still alive and he cowered in front of Daphne who had rage burning in her eyes.

"Who are you?" she growled out.

"Please… I'm just some small guy."

" _Crucio!"_ Daphne didn't even recognize the gasps of the people around here. She released the torture curse soon after and growled again. "Who. Are. You?"

"We're the Triggermen from Cambridge. We… geez, fuck… we just wanted to collect some caps. Some trader said Rook was alone and horded some caps. Please… whatever you wish, just no more. PLEASE!"

"Leave here. Don't come back." Harry said to the man and watched him run as if Death itself was behind him. He then turned to the still stunned group behind him and Daphne who's entire body shook.

"What happened?"

"Those guys came up to us and just opened fire." Neville explained. "We were bloody lucky that Daphne was quick about drawing her wand."

"Who are those Triggermen?" Harry asked Barney.

"Ah, jus' some lousy gangsters. Worst gang in the Commonwealth if ya ask me, but got sum serious backing. Rumor's around that they get their caps and chems from the green jewel."

"The green jewel?"

"Aye, Diamond City. Biggest settlement around. Say… now that ya know of the basement, whatca gonna do? Can't say that I'd mind some company. And you bunch certainly pack a punch."

"I… haven't thought about it. We came because the ones before us sent letters telling us that our culture is rebuilt here. Now we're just us again. Well… us and you."

"And Reba," Barney padded his rifles like a loved child.

"And Reba, " Harry chuckled.

"Alright then, tell ya what. I got sum mirelurk stew cookin' and ya're all invited for a bite. Come along. I bet I can find sum old sleeping bags and such for ya to get through the first nights." Barney cheered and waved them with him to the house with the fence around it.

Harry was about to leave with the group when he saw Daphne still staring at the spot where she had used the Unforgivable on the man. "I understand, you know."

"How could you?" she whispered. "You're the bloody Boy-Who-Lived, how could you understand?"

"Boy-Who-Lived or not, I still used two of them. And honestly, I reckon we'll use a lot more of them in the future. We're not even here for half a day and we already got into the first fight. To cite Susan. _At least…_ they were humans."

"So, we're staying? Has our leader decided then?"

"Don't give me that, Daphne. Where else would we go? Want to go back? To the Goblins? Back over the Labrador Sea?"

Daphne didn't answer and just looked at the spot of her first use of the Cruciatus. Her body still shook with the adrenaline and shock of the spell and probably, the rage and hate in herself. Harry softly touched her arm and she started like he had shot her a stinging hex. But Harry wouldn't be refused and he hugged her, first against her will and then just to hold her up. She sank against him, too tired to cry.

"My first time…" Harry whispered in her ear. "Was when Bellatrix Lestrange killed my godfather, Sirius Black. He had been all I had and she took it from me. I used the Cruciatus, but I couldn't get it right. She had mocked me about not having enough hate in me, but now I know that it was simply my young age that prevented me from torturing her into insanity. When I broke into Gringotts, I used the Imperius on a Goblin. And in hindsight, I regret not using the Killing curse in the Battle. Many lives of more deserving people would have been save that day if I had just disposed of the Death Eaters for good."

Daphne nodded and then whispered back. "The last weeks I had only one goal. I wanted to see some sort of civilization again. I wanted to go to a cafe, get something fancy to drink and read a good book in the sun. I had… accepted… that my family was gone. All I had was the promise of that letter. Then we get here and I see that it was all for naught. We're still among ruins and decay. When they attacked, I…" she chocked on the words, but Harry understood well enough.

"Let me show you something. Come on." Harry led her into the church, opened the door again and led her down into the crypta.

"Oh my," was all Daphne could get out before her face lit up in a smile similar to Hermiones. "This is… we can… YES! YES! Oh, bloody hell yes!

"Its not much, but I think we can start with this, can't we? We also got Barney to get us acquainted with this area. In the end, we…" he got interrupted by a cannonball of blonde smashing into him. Her arms hugged him so tight, he had trouble breathing and her beautiful laugh echoed through the crypta.

"Yes, we can start with this. I already glimpsed some Household and Crafting spellbooks. We can start with the houses, and then get on with cleaning up the shore form these crabs. Then we should establish some defenses, don't you think? Maybe some intent wards and some more hand-on traps. Ooooh," she gushed. "This is… this is…yes!"

"Yeah, "he smiled "sounds like a plan."

OOO

She was going to murder Arcturo when she came back to Diamond City. What a unbelievable idiot that wannabe ladysman with his fakeish south-american accent and his stupid 10 Millimeter pistols that did nothing - _nothing_ against Super Mutants. The only thing she got for firing at that single, green brute was that he roared at her and called his brothers.

She was dodging a missile that blew her reporters cap off her head. She barely avoided falling as she grabbed her hat, jumped through a broken down bus and at the same time tried to not loose her useless pistol.

"Come back, hooman!"

Even in this situation she couldn't avoid to roll her eyes at the Mutants. She swore, an average of ten points more IQ and those giants would easily take over the entirety of the continent. But as it was, they already failed at figuring out the problem of fitting through a bus-door all at the same time. The laugh she wanted to let go got stuck in her throat when she turned the next corner.

"Oh damn…" she cursed as a band of Raiders looked up from their meager meal of molerat and hubflower soup, grabbed their rifles and immediately begun firing at her.

She fired three quick bullets at them and then ran in the opposite direction. At this point, her guess was as good as anyones as to where exactly she was in Boston. She had jumped through houses, crossed streets, dashed through broken stores and nothing shook those bastards off her. The Super Mutants had her chased from Trinity Tower to the Combat Zone, through Boston Commons up until she had slipped them at the bus.

She was running somewhere north she realized as from time to time one could see the river through the debris of the city. The rattling fire of the Pipe Rifles behind her drew even more Raiders in. She just hoped beyond hope that these were rival gangs and she could slip them in the following fight.

A bullet nearly took off her nose, so close was it at her head. She fell to her knees and so avoided a salve from more than one rifle. The wall next to her burst up into small pieces of concrete and bricks as the shots collided with the walls. She gave some quick shots back, one, two, three, and heard some of the raiders scream as her desperate spray hit a mark.

She jumped up and fell back into the full sprint. Another block and she saw the river. She sighed and in the back of her mind she already went through everything she could sell to get an anti-rads treatment afterwards. But the constant sound of muzzle fire, bullets whistling through the air and strays colliding with metal made the decision an easy one.

With a wide leap she jumped onto the balustrade and with another she flew into the murky water separating the main city and Cambridge. Bullets shot after her and she could hear them penetrating the water, but she knew, this was it. Once again, she had survived when others would have been killed.

She held her breath as long as she could and followed the stream down the river. It was almost a minute when she had to resurface. She did so with the utmost caution, sticking first her eyes, then the rest of her head out of the water. She could almost feel the radiation doing its work while swimming through the dirty water. To her luck, the stream carried her to the edge of the river where she could easily climb up the walls. She took a look around and realized that she was close to Monsignor Plaza. Another look around to check if any Raiders, Mirelurks or other critters were around and then she let herself drop to the floor. She leaned against the wall to the river and took a deep, cleansing breath.

"That story wasn't worth it…" she breathed, half pissed off and half just happy to be alive.

But wasn't that one of her defining traits? Snooping around places she wasn't supposed to be in and getting out with her live and, most often, pride intact was just classic Piper. The sole journalist of the Commonwealth was infamous for her ability to slip through the big players grasp time and time again. Just last week she had investigated the dirty water supplies which ended with her close to execution through the hands of the Children of Atom. Piper faked a vision and was now an Acolyte of Atom. It had been one of those cases were her pride was left behind in favor of her life.

This time she had been given an anonymous tip that Hancock, the mayor of Goodneighbour, was allowing children to buy chems in his city. However, she never reached the settlement. That Super Mutant nest just next to Goodneighbour had spit out one of their brood right in front of her face. At least double her size, with muscles like a Yao Guai and a spiked board, or better small tree in its hands, the first thing that had come to her mind was to raise her gun and shoot it in the face. The scream of 'Aaargh, silly hooman wanna fight?!' had been the start of a marathon she had been sure she wouldn't survive.

When she found it in her to walk again, she stood up and made her way back to Diamond City where she would have to tell Nat that the boring story about the spoiled beer in the Dugout Inn would be printed. Talk about a walk of shame, she thought. But fate takes, fate gives and she didn't encounter anyone trying to kill her while she made her way back.

The guards around the gate were more tense than normal, but she had heard gunshots coming from the city and had seen a missile flying over Boston from somewhere around the main entrance. She probably wasn't the only one who has had problems with Super Mutants today. She saw some of the guards carry away three of their own and wondered who McDonough would hire next for the outside guard duties. For all she knew, and she knew a lot, the guys were outcasts from raider gangs, farmers who had their fields burnt down or just scavengers looking for a solid income. In any case, they weren't Diamond city residents anymore, even if they got the promise that after a few years of service, they would get a house. It had yet to happen that one of the guys survived this long.

When she reached the speaker she was already pissed off to no end for the day. She was sure that she had severe radiation poisoning and really looked forward to have that Rad-Away flowing through her veins. Her bullets were wet and useless, she was damp all over and the sun was already at the horizon. She could really do without a nighttime adventure today.

She pressed the button on the intercom and waited for the receiver to answer. The crackling told her that someone had activated the speaker.

"Hey, this is Piper. Open the door… please."

"Hey Ms. Piper," the voice of Danny, the newer guy in the Guard answered. "Look, I'm sorry, but I can't let you in."

"What do you mean you can't let me in?" she had to really pull on the last bit of her nerves to not explode on the guy. A calming breath later she spoke, her teeth clenched. "Stop playing around, Danny! I'm standing out in the open, for crying out loud!"

"I got orders not to let you in, Ms. Piper. I'm sorry I'm just doing my job."

At this point she already drew the name of Danny on her shitlist. She was so sick of all those brown-nosing, ass-licking, imbecilic, ghoulbrains that had a range of thought from their current to their next moonshine. "Oooh, 'just doing your job'. Protecting Diamond City means keeping me out, is that it?" She shook herself in exasperation. "Oh, look its the scary reporter." She mocked and sent a 'Boo!' with it.

"I'm sorry, but Mayor McDonough…" _Oh, now we're getting to the root of the problem_ she thought and cold rage bubbled up in her stomach. "…is really steamed, Piper. Sayin that article you wrote was all lies." _Yes, of course he would say that you idiot!_ "The whole city's in a tizzy." _Good!_

She snarled and viciously suppressed the urge to go back to the Super Mutants and show them the way over the roof she had found the last month. "You open that gate right now, Danny Sullivan! I live here. You can't just lock me out!" she threatened, but knew just the same that yes, he could lock her out. He could lock her out and then the problem number one of the Mayor would be no more the next day. As she sighed she saw a lady in blue next to her, but didn't give her much attention. "I can wait here all day, Danny! Open up!" she tried a last time, but really didn't think it would do anything.

She turned around and saw the lady raising a single, elegant eyebrow at her. Pipers eyes grew wide as she recognized the blue of the Vault Suit, mixed with some typical raider armor over it. The black haired lady with the unhealthy skin color and slightly milky, green eyes held a rather impressive looking laser rifle at her side. Two options then, Piper thought. Either the woman was a exiled Vault Dweller or a pretty lucky Scavenger. Then she saw the big load of guns and leather pieces on the womans back and had an idea. Piper beckoned her closer with a wave.

"You. You want into Diamon City, right?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"Wh- What? Who are you?" the lady stuttered. _Oh, great. Another muscle for brains wastelander._

She hushed her. "Play along." She whispered and then, in a louder voice, she spoke sideways to the speaker. "Wh-What was that? You said you're a trader up from Quincy? You have enough supplies to keep the general store stocked for a whole month? Huh?"

With a gesture of her hand she told the Vault-Dweller to stay silent. "You hear that, Danny? You're gonna open the gate and let us in or are you gonna be the one talking to crazy Mirna about loosing out on all this supply?"

The speaker cracked and Danny was once again on the other side. "Geez, alright. No need to make it personal, Piper. Give me a minute." _YES!_

Piper whirled around to the lady. "Better head inside quickly before Danny catches on to the bluff." She couldn't quite hold back the sigh of relief.

"This place. Diamond City. What is it?" the vault-dweller, Piper was sure now, asked.

"Oh, the green jewel? Shes a sight." Piper gushed. "Everyone whos anyone in the Commonwealth is from here, settled here or…" she pointed at herself, "got kicked out of here. A big wall, some power, working plumbing, schools and some security goons are what make Diamond City the big monster it is." Another sigh, she really couldn't hold back her relief. "Love it or hate it. You'll see for yourself, soon enough." She nodded to the dweller. "Lets go,"

She turned around, her steps a bit quicker in case Danny had second thoughts - not likely since a first thought would be required for the second to occur. She stepped on the broken floor of the Entrance Hall where two centuries ago, people bought tickets to watch baseball. Right in the middle of the hall stood Numero Uno of her shitlist, the Mayor himself.

"Piper! Who let you back inside? I told Sullivan to keep that gate shut!"

Now if that wasn't telling her that she ought to roll over and die, than Piper didn't know what was. But she had long ago stopped to think that the Mayor or those grabbing his caps each month had any sort of decency left in their system. In the case of the Mayor, he probably didn't have it in his programming. If Piper could just prove…

"You devious, rabble-rousing slander!" _Rabble-rousing was a new one._ "The level of dishonesty in that paper of yours! I'll have that printer scrapped for parts." He threatened and made a show of it for his guards. Idle talk, she knew, but it hit where it hurt, especially after a day like this.

"Oooh, is that a statement, Mr. McDonough?" she hissed out with enough venom to make Radscorpions jealous. "'Tyrant mayor shuts down the press?" she announced to a invisible crowd and drew the headline in the air. She was on a roll and the lady in her vaultsuit would have to take it. "Why don't we ask the newcomer? Do you support the news? Cause the mayor's threatening to throw free speech in the dumpster." She said with a voice that dared the lady to disagree.

"What newspaper are you talking about." The woman asked with the dullest voice Piper had ever heard. Couldn't that woman see the 'Press' sign on her cap or - heres a brave new thought - read some freakin' context?

"Mine!" Piper gave back. "Publick Occurences, and we're the hard look at the truth." _Most of the time_ she added in her head. "So are you with us or not?"

"Always believed in freedom of the press,"

Before Piper blurt out an overly inpolite 'Good!' the Mayor opened his arms wide again and did his usual routine whenever someone in the discussion isn't on his side. "Oh, I didn't mean to bring you into this argument, good lady." _Of course not, now that she told you whats what!_ "No no no, you look like Diamond City material." _Pff… meaning she looks like she got some caps to spend for your coffers, more like it._ "Welcome to the great green jewel of the Commonwealth. Safe. Happy. A fine place to come, spend your money, settle down. Don't let this muckracker here tell you otherwise, allright?"

Muckracker, her ass. She wouldn't have told the dweller any of that. The only thing she would have told her was that the place was just safe in comparison with the rest of the Commonwealth, the happy part was reserved for the people in the upper stands and settling down was only an option if you got sacks full of caps or little enough dignity to earn the same amount in the Mayors bed. Well, when she thought about it, maybe he wasn't so far off with her telling otherwise.

"I'm sure your city is a great place." Came the diplomatic answer from the dweller.

"Yeah. Greatest House of cards in the Commonwealth… until the wind blows." She zinged at McDonough.

Cutting her off, the Mayor cleared his throat in his trademark, awkward way and tried to push Piper out of the conversation entirely. "Now, was there anything particular you came to our city for?"

"I'm trying to find someone." The woman said, suddenly loosing all of her cool, neutral demeanor. She looked positively broken as she spoke. Her eyes were downcast, but quickly came back to the conversation. However, her shoulders sagged and so did her entire body. It was defeat, Piper couldn't describe it any other way and felt the guilt already rising.

"Trying to find someone? Who?" the Mayor asked, faking concern like he always did.

"My son, Shaun. He's less than a year old." Now the woman was close to tears. It was heart wrenching the way the woman held the rifle in her hands like a lifeline, her knuckles white from the pressure with which she held on. She blinked the water in her eyes away and, unknown to the dweller, made Piper decide to help her.

"Wait, your son's missing?" she asked "Oh, you hear that McDonough? Whats Diamond City Security doing to help this woman, huh? This isn't the first missing person's report to come through here, and now we've got an infant who's been taken!"

"Don't listen to her!" McDonough tried to soothe the dweller. Piper could see the rising dislike in her eyes. "While I am afraid that our security team can't follow every case that comes through, I'm confident you can find help here."

 _Damn right she'll find help_ Piper thought while already compiling a list of potential allies in her head. There was Nick, of course. The only private detective and only accepted synth in the Commonwealth had a heart, or better, processor of gold and would jump at the chance to help the lady in blue. Arcturo and Mirna could maybe be convinced to give her a bonus and the barkeeps in the Dugout Inn always knew some rumors from the sewers. She pulled herself back from her thoughts, realizing that the Mayors idle talk had become a blur.

"…one of our great citizens can surely find the time to help you."

"Well, a mayor of a great city must know everyone. Who can help me?" _Oh, smooth, Bluesuit._

"Well, uhm…" McDonough stuttered. "There is one private citizen. Nick Valentine, a detective of sorts who specializes in tracking people down, usually for debts or whatnot." The Mayor became increasingly nervous, Piper noted and rescued himself by basically telling the dweller that she would be welcome as long as she wouldn't get on the nerves of the guards with stuff McDonough didn't want to admit were true.

But Piper wouldn't be so easily denied another juicy lead. "This is ridiculous! Diamond City security can't spare _one_ officer to help? I want the I truth, McDonough! Whats the real reason security never investigates any missing…"

"I've had enough of this, Piper!" the mayor shouted over her. "From now on, consider you and that little sister of yours on notice."

"Yea, keep talking McDonough, that's all you're good for!"

The Mayor harrumphed some unintelligible words and went off to his office above the stands, the big ivory tower over the field. She took a deep breath before she looked back at the vault-dweller next to her. The woman was back at her neutral expression, now easily recognizable as a mask of will to power through the pain she obviously felt.

"I'm impressed, not everyone can claw information out of McDonoughs tight-fisted hands." Piper said to her. She made a bit of a show of sizing the dweller up, before she offered her help. "Why don't you come to my office after you see Valentine? I think I just found my next story."

Granted, Piper thought, that wasn't the most direct approach to offering help, but it wasn't any less true. The Vault-dweller that was looking for her son was way more interesting than Vadim's lackluster views on refrigeration.

After leaving the dweller that she had decided now to just call 'Blue', since she had forgot to ask her name, behind her she started to her own house, closest to the entrance. The little shack her father had built with their mother all those years ago. Just like most of the time, Nat, her little sister was shouting the latest headlines to get people to read their latest news.

Nat was a smart girl, and so she knew exactly whats what when Piper sat down next to the printing press, looking defeated.

"So, how was Goodneighbour?" she asked, the smirk on her face making quite clear what she expected to hear.

"Didn't even make it there. I was so close, but then ol' Green and his friends started chasing me through the ruins."

That erased the smirk, alright. Her little sister looked shocked out of her wits. "You met Super Mutants?"

"And Raiders - a lot of those - and some ghouls, in the mix for good measure, I think, and I took a swim in the river."

"The riv… Piper!"

"Listen, Nat. I didn't have a choice. It was either rads or raiders and I chose the less lethal option."

"You gotta go see Doc Sun!" Nat ordered, forgetting all about her sales position on the box. She sat next to Piper and suddenly was all little girl worried for her big sister again. Piper patted her head and pulled her into a tight hug. "And with what caps? Anti-Rads costs forty, at least."

Nat didn't even answer and just rummaged around her pockets, pulling caps from everywhere. In the end some sixteen caps lay before her. She looked absolutely devastated. Piper patted her again on the head and tried to smile, even though her muscles didn't really want to at the moment. She felt sick, horrible really and she knew that feeling well enough to make her own diagnosis. That was severe radiation poisoning she got there. Well, it was a shit enough day, why not loose her pride at the very end?

So she grabbed the sixteen caps from the floor and, with a last smile at Nat, made her way to Doc Sun who stood, broody as ever, in front of his clinic. It was just across the street, but oh boy did standing up feel weird. It took the doctor just one quick look to see what was wrong with her.

"You have severe radiation poisoning. Shall we clean you up, Piper?"

"Yes, well… thing is…" she hemmed and hawwed.

"Its 35 caps, for you."

"Can we make that…say… sixteen caps for me?" She asked with the most adorable puppy eyes she could muster.

The doctor touched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes and sighed as if she had just insulted him on the deepest levels of his heart. "What do you have to spare, that I could use?"

"Uhm… well, heres a... A pen…useful!" she stuttered. "And heres… oh, paper!"

"I write it on your tab?" he said through his teeth. "Again!"

"Yes, tab… please." She quickly said and made her way past him to sit at the chair of his clinic.

She hated to get radiation washed out of her system. Whatever was in Rad-Away and the special stuff the doctors used, it was highly unpleasant and exhausted her to no end. It also made her need to visit the toilet as if she'd just drunk three gallons of Nuka Cola. After she had taken care of that and thanked the doctor for his time and his patience with her ever increasing tab, she made her way back across the streets. It was already night, and when she entered the shack, she saw Nat preparing herself for bed.

"Sun let me put it on the tab. I drop the caps in the drawer, alright?"

"Right," Nat mumbled. "How large 's that tab now?"

Piper couldn't quite meet the eyes of her sister at that. "Lets just say I'd do good to find some Fusion Cores or Fat Mans on my next investigation to trade with Arcturo." Then she grinned as a thought hit her, "Or that vault-dweller lady I just met outside really drops by and gives us a juicy story."

"A vault-dweller? With blue jumpsuit and all?" Piper grinned at her sister as she said that, gushing like she was talking about Grognak or the Silver Shroud. Her sister had to grow so fast and it was good to see her being a child once in a while.

"Blue suit, perfect - if somewhat pale - skin and as much knowledge about the Commonwealth as a newborn."

"Sweet! And shes coming to give us an interview?"

"I hope so… otherwise we'll have to print that beer story."

"Gah… that one's awful."

"Thanks," Piper said, her voice dropping with sarcasm. "Always good to hear you have such confidence in my writing."

"Hey, no one can make Brahmin dung into caps." Nat teased back. "But that reminds me. Some harassed looking guy came to town today. Said he was coming from up north. Babbled something about wizards and magic before Security kicked him out. Sounds like the Institute!"

Piper wasn't so sure about that since the Institute seemed to avoid making a show, or leaving survivors for that matter. Whenever Synths attacked settlements or some technological factories, they were fast, clean and thorough. There were never survivors, just onlookers that saw it from some observation posts and there certainly never was any mention of magic.

"Did you get where exactly?"

"Salem,"


	2. Orange Coloured Sky - Nat King Cole

Piper still had troubles making sense of her new travelling companion. Nora as she called herself, Blue as Piper called her, claimed to be over two hundred years old. Piper had decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. There were worse horror stories out there about what went down in the Vaults. Cryo-sleep was not even close to being the worst of it all and Nora had ways to go before she would become the weirdest the Commonwealth had to offer.

In any case, the story Blue had given her was absolute gold. The people were eating it up like Takahashis noodle soup on sale. The woman out of time, searching for her kidnapped boy in a world she didn't know anything about. The entirety of Diamond City had bought a paper and then some. It sold so well, Piper had decided to just follow her most successful story around for a bit.

Blue had let her melodic laugh ring over the marketplace when she saw Piper trying to head out with her little pistol and good intentions. A visit at Arcturos later and Piper had a thoroughly modded Combat Rifle in hand, some Combat Armour over her trenchcoat and enough ammo to rid the north of the Commonwealth of all life, animal and human alike.

Piper admired Blue's way with people. Hell, she didn't look half bad herself. Pipers pouty lips, the black, silky hair and her pretty face were sure to get her through a night in the Dugout Inn for free. However, she got nothing on Blue. The curvy and well trained vault-dweller, clad in her skin-tight jumpsuit paraded towards Arcturo with a grace she hadn't seen since the day the bar in Goodneighbour got their new singer. She gave him that hypnotizing look that made even Pipers knees weak and then, through her full, red lips, began to barter with Arcturo. Bartering meaning, in this case, that she dictated a price and Arcturo's second brain happily took over his mouth to agree to it.

It wasn't just Arcturo she twisted around her little finger. She had a way with words like very few in the Commonwealth. On their way to the north she had talked her way through a Gunner patrol who had pressed charges for passage. They had wanted four-hundred caps. Blue convinced them that this wouldn't be necessary. That actually, if they found their current health to be a precious thing, they ought to let them pass.

To say that Piper had been a bit nervous about the situation would be like saying that Deathclaws are a bit dangerous.

But the Gunners made way and Blue led her further up north. She was the silent type, if she didn't just sweet-talk the wasteland and so hadn't said much about their destination. All Piper had got from her was that she had helped some settlers build a small, new place to live. Sanctuary Hills she called it. She also used the word 'home' to describe it, which was enough to make Piper wish to see it for herself. However, their way led them to the North-East.

"So, Blue, pray tell… what are we doing here again, in the middle of nowhere?"

"Preston, the guy I told you earlier about, you remember?"

"The Minuteman?"

"That one, yes. He asked me to check on some farmers."

OOO

No matter how thick and full with stuffing a sleeping bag is, one doesn't sleep well on concrete. Harry woke up with his spine cracking and his limbs aching. He didn't mind, though. The sun shone through the walls of the upper levels of Rook's house, the wind smelled like salt and water, the mirelurks exploded with the sound of gunshots and reducto curse while his best friend cheered and shouted sweet victory. All was well on this morning.

Still rubbing his eyes Harry made his way around the sleeping bodies on the floor and up the stairs. There Hermione stood, wand in hand, blasting curses as if they're on sale. Barney stood next to her with his arms holding his belly and his face red from laughter. Hermione had a small stack of bottlecaps in front of her feet, while Barney had his stack on a drawer. He grabbed some and then pointed with them at Hermione.

"Ten caps say ya can't hit that one, there."

"The greenish glowy one?"

"Aye,"

"Reducto!"

Something in the distance splashed, gurgled and slammed against house walls.

"Well, I be damned, ya shoot truer than a Gunner."

"Pay up, Barney."

The old sniper made a show of handing over the bottlecaps like a grand price. He bowed and handed her the silver caps with the Nuka Cola logo on them with both hands.

"You take way too much enjoyment out of killing those crabs. Should I be concerned?" Harry joked and sat himself on a chair with its lean broken off. He rubbed his eyes and not for the first time wished that coffee would have survived the Apocalypse.

"I always hated crabs and now they're tenth the size. Just… look at them. Vile creatures."

"No argument there," Harry said through a loud yawn. "We gotta get rid of them anyway. I'm not keen on keeping them as pets."

"So we are staying? Daphne had said something the like, but I wasn't sure." Hermione twisted her wand in her hands and looked over the broken houses of Salem. "Its nice enough,"

"But?"

"But where are we going to plant vegetables? How do we fortify it? How are we going to interact with those living around us? And of course the most important question, how are we going to go about magic? I take it the Statute of Secrecy is of no concern any longer, but does that mean we wield it every chance we get?"

Harry refrained from answering anything he hadn't thought about. The city of Salem was no city at all, he found. It was more a small village with a few streets, a plaza and a church. To his right there were small houses along a cliff to the shore. It would be easy to fortify those enough to make the mirelurks go around it. Right next to that row of houses, he saw bigger houses with flats in them. Then as his gaze went further to the left there was the plaza, a row of broken houses where merely a few rooms were still with roof and not overflown by debris. Then, of course, the church. It would become the heart of whatever they would build, for it was the place that held their knowledge and hope. Someday in the future, he mused, they could put it under the Fidelius, but nobody in his group knew how to cast that powerful charm yet, not even Hermione. Further to the left there was the open shore which was, next to the main road, their greatest weakness.

It would be a lot of work, but the longer he looked on, the more he saw future walls, gates and repaired houses instead of the debris. He could see the small diner become a real one, the plaza become a market and the church… the church would become their new School of Magic. With that thought he also decided upon something more fundamental. "Regarding our magic, I think we should be open about it. It is as much wonder as it is threat to everyone out there. Barney, you told us those mirelurks are normally feared beasts, right?"

"Yap. Two or three of 'em and most wastelanders bite the dust. Not a lot o' people out there that could do more in."

"See, Hermione? Two or three isn't even a challenge for us. Given that yesterday you blasted at least a dozen of them to pieces, I'd say we're more than dangerous enough to make a stand against anything and anyone."

Hermione scowled at that and Harry suspected that it was the muggleborn rebelling in her mind. "Maybe you're right," she pressed through her teeth. "What about the rest then?"

"I honestly don't know where we could start planting. I'd say we give that task to Neville, he's the herbologist. When it comes to interaction with the wasteland, I'd say we ask the expert. Barney?"

The old man stroked his white beard while he thought. His eyes also wandered around Salem and stopped at the red apartment building. "I remember when that house had people living in it. All of 'em ya kind, maybe not as nice to talk with. Anyway, enjoyed trading with 'em. There be a lot of settlers out there searching for a place to call home, ya know. Some of 'em came here, but were chased of by them damn mirelurks." He then focused his eyes on Hermione and Harry. There was no more of the slightly crazy, always laughing Barney in them. His eyes were hard and sad, speaking of tragedies long past. "I tell me that I know people when I see 'em. Thats why none of ya has a bullethole between ya eyes. If you tell me now that ya going to make this place a home, then I want in and I want my kind in, you understand? As long as they're decent I wan' to give 'em all a chance for sum good years here. I see it in ya, boy. You got what it takes to lead people and the wasteland doesn't do democracy, ya see. Mayors are for life here and you, son, are a mayor."

"By your kind, you mean people without magic? Muggles, we call them." Hermione asked.

"I mean every goddamn soul out there that can do sum good in a community. Magic humans or normal ones, but also ghouls that still got their brains workin'. Hell, if a Super Mutant thinks he fits in, then so be it. Only thing I want to make clear to them is that there be no strikes. You mess up, you get thrown out."

"And by mess up, you mean?"

"Killin', rapin', stealin', easy as that."

Both Harry and Hermione nodded their agreement, equally surprised by the conviction in which the old sniper spoke.

"What about violence in general? You saw it yesterday, Barney. We can do horrible things with our powers without outright killing someone."

"Nuthin' better than a lil' brawl to get the bad blood out, my momma always said. But I see whatcha mean. You got rules fo' that?"

"They _are_ called the Unforgivable Curses. I say we keep them unforgivable." Hermione mumbled while she probably already formulated a constitution for Salem.

"We should allow their use against outsiders." Harry offered and at the scandalized look of Hermione, added, " What? This world isn't playing nice, Hermione. You saw it yesterday. Those Triggermen came in, opened fire without a word just to get some lousy bottlecaps. If someone threatens Salem, we strike down with the full force of our powers." Harry then let out a deep breath, closed his eyes for a few second and calmed his voice again. "As far as I understood, building a settlement is like building a nation in small. If you do that, you're among the big players of the Commonwealth, especially if we're taking the whole peninsula for us. Diamond City is supposed to be the biggest settlement out there. From what I gather on the maps, the area we would occupy here would the six times that of Diamond City. Not defending it like one would defend a nation against outside threats would be showing weakness in a world where being weak kills you."

"I get what you're saying, Harry, but does it have to be an Unforgiveable? The only one of those used yesterday was the Cruciatus of Daphne and there would have been other ways to get the guy to talk. I'm with you that we must defend ourselves. But doesn't a good Bombarda or Reducto do just as much for that?"

"I'm not saying that we should throw them around like they're going out of style. But we should not limit ourselves. If we see something too big or sturdy for a reducto, we use the Killing Curse."

"I'm not happy with it, and won't ever be, probably, but I can agree to that."

 _That discussion is so not over_ Harry though with a broad grin, but decided to let it rest for now. She had a point, after all, that their normal curses already did suffice. They had more pressing matters to attend to than the laws and rules of engagement of their new home, so he decided to change the subject. "I think we should get the walls up first. There is a lot of concrete in that debris, so we probably won't have to do too much transfiguration."

"I'm jus' assumin' that buildin' a wall comes as easy to you people as blowing mirelurks up, but where do ya plan on buildin' them?"

Harry moved a little to the side so that he saw between the roof of the houses. "You see the big block of a house there? The one right behind the building with the diner next to it?"

"Ya mean the ol' Convalescent Home?"

"Yes, that one," Harry agreed and then drew a imaginary line from the right side of the shore to the left. "We're going to use it as a base for our walls. That way we can position ourselves on its roof for lookout and control who comes in and out of Salem. From there on out, we get the wall all around, including the shore. How long will it take, Hermione?"

"That depends," Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "If I can work on it without being disrupted, we could be done by tonight. It all depends on how much of the concrete we can really use."

"If you need to, rip the pathways and roads open. The wall is a priority." Harry said, or rather ordered, but Hermione nodded nonetheless. "Barney, yesterday you mentioned some defensive turrets?"

"Aye, got 'em all deactivated. No use in wastin' ammo for a few mirelurks."

"Good. Get together with Susan and see if she can figure out a set of Runes to make the ammo work with some sort of duplicating charm. If thats done and we got a good set of walls by then, place some of them on key positions along the main road. When she wakes up, I'll have Daphne place some wards around the perimeter. I'm afraid we can't get out the big guns just yet, but even just wards that wake us should someone attack would give me some peace of mind."

"Ya got it all figured out, I see." Barney chuckled.

"With your help, Barney. I hope we can have another Commonwealth one-oh-one session tonight?"

"Ya bet! And if ya get those walls up today, I gonna introduce ya all to the Dirty Wastelander."

"The dirty wastelander?" Hermione asked.

"Ya'll see." Barney smiled.

If Harry had to be honest, he had thought that building walls would be grating on their nerves, exhausting them even more than they already were. Mirelurk Stew as breakfast did nothing to lighten the mood, but flinging concrete blocks through the air towards the line where the wall would later be built, did wonders to everybody's attitude. Bonus points if your small truck worth of concrete smashed one of the mutated crabs along the way. Harry swore, he had never heard anyone laugh so hard like Barney when he saw the surreal spectacle of the flying houseparts.

Once the blocks where at their designated place, simple Wingardium Leviosas no longer did the trick. From there it was Hermione's task to transmute, transfigure and charm the raw resource and debris into a wall. Knowing that Hermione worked best undisturbed, he placed Daphne next to her to figure out a ward-scheme and watch out for dangers. Harry wanted to see if he could get something else done in the meantime.

It was a long list of tasks that the group had penned out onto a quickly conjured piece of paper, and Harry was glad that it would cost them months to complete it. The more they had to do, the less time the harsher realities had to ruin your mood. Even the tasks scheduled for today were barely realistic if, and only if everything worked out like they had planned.

Neville was going through the gardens, picking through the soil, watching what grew and what withered, testing the dampness of the earth with his fingers, the makeup of its components by taste. In other words, Neville was in his element as he put signs on usable fields and marked useless parts with some sort of cross.

Susan began her work on the turrets and from afar, Harry could already see her sketch up complicated Rune clusters on whatever surface she found. Barney stood next to her, a huge smile on his face as he watched the former Professor of Ancient Runes lay out her ideas.

Luna and Lilith made up the cleanup crew and rid the streets of dirt, smaller debris and the rest of exploded crabs. When they were done with the streets they went over to the houses and began to repair the structures, interiors, furniture and even some windows and doors in a pattern only the two made sense of.

Everyone seemed occupied and engaged in the work before them. Harry drafted George who was already tinkering with something to follow him onto the church's tower. The wooden stairs creaked as their steps took them farther up. Along the way Harry directed some Reparos at broken stairs, handles and a window. He figured that doing so constantly would eventually lead to a good-as-new Salem. Just having a window repaired made the upper levels of the church already more homey. He could already imagine them holding lessons in the backrooms and large gatherings in the main hall.

Up on the tower Harry had a good view over the village and the surrounding area. The constant greys and browns of the Commonwealth were depressing, but the solid white of the concrete walls Hermione built stood like a beacon of new hope in the dystopian landscape. Hermione built sturdy walls that reached over double of her own size, with steel and concrete reinforcements every few meters. She worked fast and even from afar, Harry could see her mind to be completely on the task. She didn't even look away from her wandwork when Daphne blasted an attacking Mirelurk to pieces. Every swish, every flick and every stab with her wand built more concrete slabs, placed them and reinforced them so that nothing short of TNT would penetrate their walls.

He could've watched her the entire day, but he came to the highest point in the village for a reason after all.

"Fred, how much cursebreaking did you learn from Bill? I know you asked him about some curse." He asked the last Weasley while conjuring a piece of paper.

George took a few seconds to consider the question. He rubbed his chin, scratched his head and handled an itch in his short beard before he answered. "Not much really. Mostly just stuff he thought we could use for pranks." He sighed and looked over to the other side of the tower, where the ocean stretched out to the horizon. Two quick swipes with his hands over his eyes later, George turned around again, a fake smile graced his lips as he tried to be enthusiastic for whatever was to come. "What do you have in mind, chief?"

"Traps. Nothing lethal, but everything else. While we can easily check the main road, the coasts are another thing. Eventually Raiders will climb those cliffs just to get to what we have and eventually they will take a swim through radioactive water to land on our coasts. There you have to make sure that they stay until we can either throw them out or get rid of them."

"Do you have anything special in mind, Harry?"

"You know what?" Harry begun as he turned his head to smile at the surviving half of Hogwarts' biggest pranksters. "This world is grim enough. I think I'd like a laugh every time we catch one."

It was amazing how broad a grin could grow. George's stretched from ear to ear as ideas came to life in the mischievous depths of his mind. "I take it I should go to work right away?" he nearly begged Harry.

"Yes, just let me whip up a plan for you. We're going to build defensive lines and yours is going to be around the first line of defence." Harry said.

They spent about half an hour planning out defensive positions, fallback lines and narrows where they could force an advantage. While Harry dug deep in the tactical knowledge of his Auror training, Fred invented ideas for the most hilarious ways to stop an enemy force he could think of. Whenever Harry stole glances at the sketches and notes George made, the prankster in him more and more hoped that eventually someone would try the attack path over the coast cliffs.

When George left to set up his traps, Harry took a moment to refocus. For a few minutes he just looked across the village, imagining what could be. He saw a red diner and in his mind, people gathered there to get some breakfast before going about their daily business. Next to it was a clothing store, run down and broken, but becoming better. A few of the windows had been repaired by Luna already and just like that, the skeleton of a house gave off a glimpse of the future open warehouse the rooms would be perfect for. Finally he looked at the apartment buildings where his mind drifted off into areas he hadn't thought he would ever have. People living in these apartments, children running around in the living rooms and the adults having conversations over the balconies. Families living in a community.

He shook himself out of his musing. It would be a long way to this point. For now, even the thought of constant stream of food was troubling. One could duplicate food just so much until the nourishment was gone and all that was left is a barely filling illusion produced by magic. Then again, even if they could produce enough food, they needed protection. So Harry started with his own project for the day, the security measures and in order to know what to defend against, Harry needed to know the area.

The day went by. Hermione and Daphne built and warded an enormous concrete wall around the entire village. Neville began to mark the fields for future seeds. Luna and Lilith repaired whatever they saw during their exploration of Salem and Susan tinkered with the insides of the turrets' magazines. The occasional mad laughter also proved that George was working on whatever artificial hell he designed.

Harry had grabbed a broom, disillusioned himself and made sure that they knew he would be gone for a few hours. Hermione was less than pleased that he would venture out alone, but saw the use in knowing their neighbours. Eventually, the whiteness of the concrete would glister in the sun bright enough to make people curious. Then Salem would need to know what to expect and Barneys knowledge of the people of the Commonwealth did just so much in preparing them.

After grabbing a quick bite at noon, Harry flew over the first bits of wall, stretching from the Convalescent Homes corner to the beach in the south of the Salem peninsula. Hermione worked so fast, he had no doubt that she would be able to finish the wall by nightfall.

His path took him south, along the coast to where he saw a lighthouse. He hadn't even flown for ten minutes when he saw a village of sorts. Wooden shacks of low quality stood in the middle of a impact crater filled with water that seemed to glow. Bridges, both made of rope and wood connected the shacks where a rather big group of people lived. Harry hovered over the crater, careful not to go to near to the glowing water and tried to do figure out what those peoples deal is.

"If I just had…" Harry mumbled when he gave up looking for details. He was just too high up and the area looked too poisonous to take any chances. The solution for his problem, however, was still inside him, in a rather literal sense.

"Sir Nikolas?

" _I was already wondering when you would ask me to leave."_ Harry heard the voice of the Gryffindor House-ghost inside him.

"Could you fly down there for me and see if these people are a treat? Who they are?"

" _Certainly, Mr. Potter. Just let me escape the comfort of your body be…"_ Harry felt as if iced silk moved over his head as the ghost came out of him through his eyes, nose and mouth. "…fore I fly down there." He finished, now hovering next to Harry in the known ethereal form of a medieval, british nobleman.

The ghost wasted no time and flew straight down to the shacks where he investigated thoroughly. Sir Nikolas listened to conversations, looked at the faces and apparel of the people and gave their weaponry a detailed look. It was when one of the people suddenly changed directions that the man walked through Sir Nikolas. The soul collided with the man and he broke down onto the bridge on which he stood, hugging himself while he rung for air and warmth. Sir Nikolas was quick to back off, but the damage was done.

"ATOM!" the man shouted. The people around him drew nearer and kept him upright while the man seemed to work himself into hysterics. "ATOM HAS TOUCHED MY VERY BEING." Then he drew a rasping breath, his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell into the waiting arms of the people around him.

Harry witnessed all this from his position high up in the sky. He made a mental note to see to it that these nutters would stay far away from Salem. Close after the man announced his being touched by… Adam, Sir Nikolas arrived back at the point where Harry hovered.

"That was… uuhm. Harry mumbled while he observed the village falling into hysterics.

"Indeed, quite a unique reaction to contact with ectoplasm. Understandable, however, given the nature of this… gathering of huts." Sir Nikolas answered, his voice making quite clear what he thought about these people.

"The nature of it? What do you mean?"

"They seem to be religious people. Atom seems to be their god. I read through a few letters I saw lying around and found that they seem to be a big religion throughout Northern America."

Harry sighed when he heard that. Religious people were always a hassle to deal with. Not just once had Harry been called a demon when a muggle had seen him cast something on the job. One even tried to hit him with a cross and splashed a cup of holy water at his face before feeling the hit of a Stupor on his chest. "So, would you think they are peaceful?"

"Oh, definitely not." Nikolas shook his head so hard, he nearly almost lost his head again. "They are fanatics from what I could gather. That lighthouse over there. It seems like their occupants refused to "see the light" and were killed for it."

"So at least these guys are going to be a problem in the future."

"It would be safe to assume, indeed."

"Very well, then. I have hoped to find merely some farmers around, but that would've been too much to ask for, I suppose." Harry grumbled. "Lets see what's west of Salem. The North is empty according to Barney, with the exception of some harmless guys at an old Insane Asylum. All he knew for the West was that some Raiders have their base there."

"After you then, Mr Potter."

With a last glance at the glowing crater Harry pushed his broom to fly to the Northwest. It was a short flight over barren land that brought the ex-Auror and the ghost to the edge of a quarry. Even from afar Harry saw people walking along the cliffs where they had dug into white stone, maybe marble, before the bombs. It was also quite clear that they were better equipped than the Atom-worshippers. Harry slowed down to reduce the sound his robes made. At a walking pace he drew closer. He quickly spotted a guy that walked in one of the infamous Power Armours Barney had mentioned to them. Others were equipped with armour made of metal scraps, pipes and leather as well as the other famous weapon Barney had told them about, the Pipe Rifle. However, other than that he couldn't see any more danger than simple raiders.

They were exactly over the centre of the quarry when Harry heard Nikolas drew in a sharp breath.

"What is it, Sir Nikolas?" he asked.

"At the entrance to the mine, Mr. Potter. Right beside one of those bandits. No fast movements."

At times like these, Harry wished for better eyesight. He squinted his eyes and leaned forward. He saw the entrance to a hole that he guessed would be the mine and he saw the Raider standing guard in front of it. The sun shone at him, so details were hard to make out. However, when he looked at the shadows, he saw it.

"Bloody hell," Harry breathed out.

"Indeed."

"That's just great now. Religious fanatics, Raiders and now we have a Chindi, I believe they were called." Harry rubbed his eyes in a weak attempt to control his rising frustration.

"The vengeful spirits of Northern America. Do you know of them, Mr. Potter?"

"Not much, just that we british had to deal with Green Ladies and Banshees while the americans had to ask Navajo Medicine men to deal with the Chindi spirits."

"Something dreadful must have happened down in those mines." Sir Nikolas then looked at Harry, concern evident in his eyes. "I could talk to her."

"No. If there is one thing I learned at the academy about vengeful spirits is that you don't want their attention. Ever. We'll leave her, for now."

The moment Harry finished his sentence, they saw the young woman glide through the air to the Raider positioned at the entrance. Her transparent hand stroked his cheek and the Raider shivered. She retreated then, her mouth moved and she seemed to whisper something to him that he would not be able to hear. His feet moved as if he was a machine. He barely kept his balance as he stumbled, step for step, into the mine. The clatter of his rifle on the floor rang through the quarry, but none of his comrades cared. Another step, and another he took, always following the Chindi until he vanished behind the white stones.

"Truly dreadful beings, those Chindi. But I suppose harmless for the settlement. At least for now."

"Yes, she seems to have enough prey with the Raiders here. Lets move on. I'd like to check on the Asylum and the North. See if there is something of interest."

"As you wish, Mr Potter." Nikolas agreed. "I can assure you here and now that Helena and myself will see to it that the Chindi stays out of Salem. We have dealt with worse."

"Thank you, Nikolas."

"The least we can do, Mr. Potter."

The rest of the scouting flight was uneventful. They saw some houses, few and far between. The Asylum was guarded by men and women in heavy armour, carrying fearsome weaponry. Why they guarded the Asylum, Harry couldn't find out, but it seemed like a safe guess that these soldiers would stay put where they are. Harry flew a wide circle over an abandoned factory. He saw some patrols of men in green uniform, marching west and more Mirelurks than he cared to count. After making sure that in the small cottage was no one who would be any more potential trouble than Harry had already found, he made his way back to Salem.

Even from afar he could see the wall, white and tall, reflecting the evening suns red and orange. Right next to the Convalescent home he saw a huge gate made of iron and wood, guarding the main road. From his elevated position he could see the wall stretching around Salem. Hermione had done it. As he flew closer he felt the tingle of several wards on his body, one of them being a detection ward, that much he could feel. Around the wall, turrets were placed. Three simply covering the main road while two others covered the corners north and south of the peninsula.

But probably the biggest surprise for Harry awaited him when he landed on the plaza next to the church. His group sat there on wooden benches, around a huge table, sharing food and drink with four people dressed in rags while Barney sat on the end of the table, talking with both Hermione and an older man who also looked like he was dressed in a dumpster.

He barely reached the table when Barney looked up and waved Harry to him.

"Harry, I wan' you to meet sum one. This is Rick, the leader of these fine people." Barney said and pointed at the man beside him.

The guy, Rick, was old and his face told of countless years of hardship. His wrinkles were deep, like valleys in his skin and his eyes looked tired. His close cropped beard and his receding hair was grey, nearly white. He was dirty, but he wore a kind smile as he nodded to Harry in greeting.

"I heard you're the leader of these people."

Harry was about to speak, when Hermione interrupted him. "They want to settle here, Harry."

"Is that so? Why?"

"They told me you're a smart one. What possible reason could we have to ask for shelter behind walls like these? Survival 's the simple answer."

"Right," Harry took a seat next to Hermione. His behind hurt from the day on the broom and the cracks that went down his spine when he stretched gave him enough excuse to sort his thoughts. His glance travelled over the rest of Rick's group. Next to him sat a young girl, her age somewhere in the teens, with a gash along her face, a bruised neck but a bright smile on her. She talked with Luna in quick american accent and Harry would have guessed her to be a very open person were it not for her drawn back gestures. No matter what her face said, her arms were always in a position of defence. Right next to the girl sat an older woman who listened to the girl ramble while she ate from the meat and stew on the table. Her expression was calm, collected and just as tired as Rick's. The last one was a man with a hard edges face, leathery skin and far too little meat on his bones. He had his eyes closed and rested his face in his hands. The only indication that he was awake was his mouth that moved into a smile whenever the girl or Luna said something humorous.

They looked desperate, poor, dirty and beaten. They had weapons on their belts and probably enough reasons to use them in their past. But what Harry couldn't sense was that certain kind of danger that thugs radiated. They weren't tense, they didn't flinch at sudden movement, their eyes rested on their food, in their hands or on people but weren't searching for dangers. His head told him to be wary, but his guts told him to give them a chance. Harry came to trust his gut during his life.

"When did you arrive?" he asked to break the silence between the four at the head of the table.

"Around three, I'd guess." Rick answered.

"We were done gettin' those turrets into position when they came around the Museum." Rick added. "They seemed like the decent sort, so Susan and me invited them to a bite."

"And we happily agreed. We hadn't got decent food for three days now."

"Three days? Where do you come from?"

"The South. We had a good deal going on in the swamps, but the place is crawling with Raiders, Gunners and Ferals to boot, nowadays. So we decided to go North. We sold some of our food at Bunker Hill. Day later a Raider group ambushes us. We were ten people. The last five days we just ran north until we saw that ol' Salem had become a fortress."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Harry said, "The Commonwealth's stories seem to be filled with violence."

"There were some good people among them. But I have to be honest. I have seen too much death in my days to grief overly much. It doesn't bring the dead back to life." Rick said, but his eyes spoke of more pain in him than the old man cared to admit.

"Yet without grief, no closure." Harry mumbled. His thought threatened to wander to the ones he lost, but he quickly got them back into the presence. Just as Rick said, it didn't bring them back to life and their memories would have to wait for moments of solitude. "How much have they already told you?"

Hermione answered that question. "We have told them about us and about our simple rules."

"Aye, the rules are simple enough, but…" Rick leaned closer as he continued in a whisper. "There have been stories about this place. Dark stories. We thought them myths, but seeing concrete just forming itself into a wall… makes you question that."

"You didn't say anything about dark stories before." Hermione said.

"I know Barney. If he's here I figured you guys can't be too bad. And I'm not the one who had told the stories. That was…"

"My mum," the girls suddenly said. She looked at Harry with every trace of her smile gone. Big, brown eyes met his emerald green.

"Aye. Elisa's mum kept talking about Salem. About demons keeping slaves and torturing them with glowing lights. She was… uhm…" Rick stopped and made sure not to look at Elisa.

The girl glared at the older man with a fire in her not unlike the heat with which Hermione could stare one down. "You always thought she was crazy. Now look who was wrong." She crossed her arms and lifted her chin at the old man.

"Don't look much like demons, do they?" Rick countered.

"We also don't keep slaves." Neville said.

"Or torture anyone." Harry added finally.

"Weren't you who're ta blame for those myths." Barney said silently.

"I feel like there's a story there." Harry gestured to Barney to continue, but the old sniper seemed reluctant, almost scared to say anything.

"Not what my ol' mum would call polite table conversation, 'm afraid." Barney said, his eyes downcast. "But imma give y'all a hint. Take a few dirty wastelanders with ya, sit down in that library of yours and look for something that looks like a journal. Ya ought to find something."

OOO

Harry sat in the crypta of the church of Salem, alone with just a journal to keep him company. He had taken the tip from Barney to heart and searched for the most private looking book he could find. It wasn't much of a search. It was in the centre of the chaos, on the desk. Next to him was the, by now, infamous Dirty Wastelander mix from Barneys basement. Rook drank the stuff like normal people would drink beer, but Harry felt that a sip an hour was quite enough. He wanted to read, not black out, after all.

He marvelled about the things they had achieved in just a few days. First off all, the reactivation of Barney's turrets. Though, the walls around the peninsula made them something of a safety overkill. In any case, they gave Harry peace of mind. Rick's group had settled down nicely in Salem and began to plant Tomatoes, or Tatos as they called them, Melons and his new favourite fruit, the mutfruits. It were still just four people, but it was a start of a community. Also, Barney had a drinking buddy now and would cut him and the other wizards some slack, Harry hoped.

Before him on the hickory desk lay the journal of one Jeremiah Quincy. Barney had told him that Jeremiah was the last of the Salem Settlers and that he was some sort of scribe to them.

Harry had already looked through the collection of paper, parchment and notes. Jeremiah had begun writing when he was little more than a teenager and stopped when he vanished from Salem without a trace. Most of it were notes about everyday life. He described their life at the peninsula and their hard days. As it turned out, they had been founded by the remaining students of the Salem Institute of Magic. The library and the magical equipment in the crypta was all they had been able to safe before the bombs hit and the Institute was reduced to ashes.

From time to time he would write about new arrivals, deaths and departures. He mentioned bandits - so called Raiders - assaulting them over and over again, like waves against a stone shore. From time to time a stray bullet would hit and end a fellow wizard.

But Harry had isolated a few notes that awoke his interest.

 _23\. April 2234_

 _Today marks the death of our last Master. Meredith Bohnman, the Transfiguration Mistress, was the last of us who was able to transform into an animagus. Hers had been the form of a wolf, and it had reflected in her character. I never liked her, truth be told, but she was the only one capable of some advanced magic. Sure, we still have the books, but nobody cares enough about theory to learn without her pressuring them. Its such a waste. I'm trying but I'm just not all that good. Jack would be our best wizard if he'd just get his ass moving and away from that muggle poison he inhales._

 _Cloe had been especially infuriating today at the burial. Finally she has the old mistress away so that she can open her shop for the muggles. Its going to be the death of us. We shouldn't let them onto the peninsula. They're all savages - animals. But maybe a bit of trade can't hurt._

 _6\. Mai 2234_

 _This was faster than I expected. Cloe got in a clinch with some muggle scum over freakinmutfruits and they shot her in the face. Muggle loving bitch got what she deserved if you ask me._

 _Anyway, we're closing our gates again._

Harry stored the notes back between the first pages where he found them. He browsed through the book some more until he found the next marked notes. It was many years after and in between, Harry didn't find anything interesting, but the decline of the community.

 _19\. Septembre 2257_

 _The guys from the Pitt had enough, it seems. I have half a mind to go with them, but that would mean leaving the library behind and I can't do that. Just yesterday I snuffed someone with an Killing Curse for trying to brew Psycho in one of the good cauldrons. Without me, those imbeciles would destroy it in days, maybe just hours._

 _Anyway, the guys from the Pitt left us today. They had threatened the settlement with it for a good month now and yesterday Jack got them to leave. He had brought some muggle wenches with him after a raid. All under the Imperio and probably for the whorehouse Jack organizes. His mind is so poisoned it can barely produce anything but dark magic at this point. He's just one of many who're like that. Its disgusting. I hope the fertility potion I slipped the girls produces some new wizards with clean magic._

 _The Pitts are light as can be and left for the deserts after that display of darkness. They hope to find some natives, I understand. Its a waste that over thirty wizards and witches want to become shamans. But maybe that's our lot in life?_

 _I'm thinking everyday about how I can turn this around. Wizard culture is not living on caps, chems and dark magic. I swear, if they get the children I kill them all and raise a new generation._

After that Harry took a good gulp full of the Dirty Wastelander. Jeremiah's notes became darker and darker after this. Some were merely manic raging about his fellow wizards. Harry could almost feel the hate flowing from the pages as he cursed them with his words. It took years of notes until he would finally write something other than hateful rants again.

 _2\. February 2265_

 _The mail is working! Finally, its working! It took me years, but now I can contact the rest of the magical world. I'm going to add some charms to make it automatic. It'll be like a beacon to all._

 _I can finally get rid of the tainted blood in Salem._

 _2265_

 _I killed the adults. All of them._

 _I obliviated the children. They now think I'm their father._

 _This was for the good of all magical kind. The children haven't yet had contact with magic, except accidental one. I can form them into good wizards and witches._

 _I produced a Muggle Repelling Charm. Tricky piece of magic. The Commonwealth now forgot about Salem all together. Finally, no more stinking muggles._

 _27\. August 2265_

 _Three wizards from France came. From France! They tell me about a war between humans and Goblins going on in the alps. So essentially, they're refugees. The States had done good to not let those vile creatures into the country._

 _The Frenchmen settled in nicely. They're not spectacular wizards. They can use most day-to-day spells and mostly just offensive spells, learned in the battlefield against the Goblins. Anyway, they seem nice enough. I'll gift them some of the girls to get them to stay._

Harry got up from his seat at the desk then and went to grab another Dirty Wastelander. He knew that being drunk wouldn't exactly be the smartest choice in these times, but he couldn't go on without more alcohol. No, the next years of Jeremiah were vile lines of text. He and the three Frenchmen basically held a harem. Harry almost puked all over the journal when Jeremiah begun to plan out the rape of his own daughters in graphic detail. All in order to produce more magical children. _For the good of all magical kind_ he wrote time and time again, like a mantra to tell himself that he was still doing what was necessary. The next entries were almost a relief for Harry.

 _30\. March 2268_

 _We had to lift the Charm following the urging of our latest arrivals. I do not like them, but they are magicals. Jaque, Michel, Marcel and me decided to not tell them about what we do to ensure children. They would never understand. But lifting the Muggle Repel would not matter. We have nothing the Commonwealth would want._

 _They're from Italy, this time. Four men, one woman, one child. The woman is too old to bear children, but has one with her, although useless. Its a squib. The men could be of use. They claim to be the last survivors of the Battle of Sardinia, but the way they talk is making me suspicious. They have an irish accent._

 _We must be cautious around them. I hold Oria, Lisa, Trish and Anna under the Imperius. I want them to spend nights with the men._

 _34\. March 2268_

 _I had to kill the woman, Amelia Finnigan. At first she complained about the girls going for the men. Then she wanted to hex them._

 _I took her while she slept and apparated with her to a known Deathclaw nest. I dropped her into it. Those beasts made short work of her. Her wand is stored in the crypta. The child, Cathrine Finnigan, I sold to some farmers. Obliviated. I couldn't…_

 _She was a squib - useless._

 _The men asked what happened and I blamed the mirelurks. I did good to spike their soups with potion. They're so horny, a touch from the girl makes them forget all about the woman._

Harry was far past the point of being glad that no-one survived before they came here. He could only imagine what Jeremiah would have done, or at least tried to do with a group like his. Five girls in their prime and three guys to do the deed. He decided to skip the rest of the mad talk of Jeremiah and get to the day when it all ended. At this point, Harry felt it was a happy ending. He was already at his third Wastelander when he read the last notes.

 _14\. January 2287_

 _Me and my wives were the first to greet the new arrivals. The rest of Salem came shortly after. I could also see the crazy muggle watch us from that light tower. I would have already killed him, but Jaque says he's good at killing mirelurks. I don't care but I could do without another fight between the families. The last one was too costly._

 _The new guys are a huge bunch. Over forty wizards and witches from around Europe. They will double our numbers. They say they had met up at Iceland before making their way over the northern path. The last humans of Europe. I must go. My wives and daughters prepare a feast._

 _15\. January 2287_

 _They're all dead. My wives, my daughters and the other families._

 _Some fucking German was too nosy for his own good. He found the broodslaves in the basement of the museum down the road._

 _The oldest of them, one Percival Kohlmayer, had demanded answers. When I told him the plan, he slammed me a book in the face. "Genetics and Wizards" by Sally-Anne Perks. I'm reading the book right now. Its idiotic scribbles by some mudblood bitch that dropped out of Hogwarts to study muggle science. Imagine that, to drop out of Hogwarts at a time when the legendary Archmage Albus Dumbledore was headmaster there. Says everything about that author._

 _But those Europeans followed her by the word. It was like a text written by Merlin himself to them. We had a fight. They called us some names, we called them some names. Curses began flying._

 _I'm the last survivor._

 _Barney Rooks, that mirelurk hunter, came over and asked me if I was alright. If I needed a stimpack. I cursed him and he fled to the house he had claimed to be his family's old home. Can't remember that, but whatever._

 _I can already hear the mirelurks eating the bodies. I will go to sleep now._

 _23\. January 2287_

 _The last broodslave is dead. She was killed during childbirth. The child was born dead._

 _The mudblood's book stated that a wizard could produce magical children with muggles. Half-bloods. It came to this, then._

 _I have gathered all caps in the settlement, all the fertility potion and my trusted wand. I'm going to head to Lynn Pier and buy me every single whore in that raiders nest. I'll come back some weeks later to collect the ones who're pregnant._

 _I told Barney to keep watch while I'm gone._

"Now that was a good introduction on how not to do it." Harry slurred and then laughed at his uncontrolled tongue. He took the last sip of his third Dirty Wastelander and then smacked his lips. It had a nice taste, he had to give it that. The mutfruit in it tasted like blackberries mixed with apple and the whiskey gave it a delicious alcoholic flavor. But most of all it just knocked you out for good.

Harry didn't even bother to go back to Barneys House and decided to sleep on the floor on an old carpet.

OOO

"Oh, really Piper! You shouldn't be such a wuss, Piper! I could do much more with that sword, Piper! If you can't handle it, then you better go, Piper!"

Piper was alone on a broken, concrete road, somewhere in the north of the Commonwealth and ranted to release her frustration, disappointment and anger. Around her were the same, sick and dead trees she knew so well from the world around her. They stood there as if to reflect her mood. The sea to her left sent high waves against the shore, their beauty merely masking their death bringing nature, like a reflection of the vault-dweller that had just left her behind. The sea in general was radioactive, but on the northern shore of the Commonwealth, it was especially poisonous. It reeked of the sewers, of glowing algae and destroyed ecosystems that had made way for vicious environments of brutal eat or be eaten. A sentiment that seemed to have found its way into the vault-dweller's heart more quickly than Piper had realized. Eat, kill, steal or be eaten, be killed and be stolen from.

Worst of all, the road in front of her was long, lonely and most of all, dangerous. Yeah, that image of the glorious vault-dweller with a heart of gold and a sturdy moral code was utterly destroyed. Blue had turned out to be just one more violent, selfish wastelander. But even after the atrocities she had seen Blue submit the farmers and settlers to, she had not expected that she would send Piper on her way home on her own.

"She even took back the rifle…" Piper mumbled as she rummaged through her trenchcoat to gather some ten millimetre bullets. There were also no more leather straps holding the trenchcoat in between Combat Armour plates. Piper was sure that Blue… no, Nora, expected her to die on the way. She couldn't be so naive to think that Piper would survive the journey through three of the most dangerous territories in the Commonwealth on her own. And to think that she had thought about dating the black haired, cruel beauty. She shivered at the thought of having that brute in saints mask in her bed.

Which brought the journalist to the question of how she would prove the vault-dweller wrong. She didn't have many bullets, merely one magazine and no food or drink whatsoever. Things were not looking up. To make it all worse, the sun was already touching the horizon. She wouldn't be able to go far today. Not to mention that travelling at night is about as smart as hugging some feral ghouls.

Piper tried to remember the map of the north, but couldn't quite get an image in her head. There were no settlements around, as far as she knew. Looking around her she also saw no big buildings, with the exception of the factory at the far end of a small peninsula. It was out of the question anyway. Factories meant technology, scrap and housing, which subsequently means Raiders or others who would gladly point the lethal end of a gun at her.

Time was of the essence, however. The light of the sun was already in the reddish tones and it wouldn't be too long before night. With haste she settled for the first option she saw. It was a small cottage, with its roof collapsed and red walls whose planks started to fall out. She raised her pistol and made her way with caution. There was always the danger of mirelurks near the shore. She couldn't hear their distinctive sound of their legs poking the earth as they walked, but one couldn't be too cautious.

When Piper reached the cottage, she had still to see even one mirelurk in the distance. The insides of the cottage were nice enough. There was a matrace, one of those red workbenches and some crafting tables. Piper busied herself with some small defences. Some rope and cans laying around made for sound-traps that would hopefully wake her up if someone approaches. She laid them out and took one last look around. The sun was gone beyond the horizon and the red light drew long shadows on the clouds. Piper decided to call it a day and prayed that she would wake for another. Her stomach was rumbling, but there was nothing she could do about that. Her mouth was dry, but she would either go thirsty before she tried to drink from some puddle. It would be an embarrassing way to go, to die from germs and radioactivity by drinking dirt water.

Piper decided to sleep while sitting. For one it would allow her to be much quicker on her feet. It would also make her sleep light so that she could hear the cans ringing. But most of all it was because the matrace was damp and she hated the feeling of wet fabric on her cheeks. With her pistol in hand she closed her eyes and her thoughts went to a state of half-sleep after a deep breath. She wished to be in her shack in Diamond City, surrounded by walls, close to her sister and people she called friends. She wished that Nora would have been the glowing saint with the laser rifle Piper had hoped she would be. She thought back at the farmers and the disappointment in their eyes when they realized that the minutemen would take more from them than they would give. Her last thought was the blank, neutral mask of indifference Nora had worn on her face when she dismissed Piper.

The rattling of the cans woke her in the blink of an eye. Her hands reacted on their own. She loaded the gun before she had her eyes open and aimed the moment they snapped open. It was still night, but Piper didn't need much light to see her doom unfold.

The rattling of the cans came again, and again and again with every step the Mirelurk Queen took towards the house, its brood in tow. The strip with the tin cans on it was tangled in its feet. The beast towered over her, a three level house still dwarfed next to it. The gurgling and hissing coming from her mouth promised a painful death in acid and claws. Piper stared over her iron sights, paralysed by fear. The clicking of the mirelurks legs on the stone and concrete lying around the beach was like needles in her head.

The Queen had seen her, there was no doubt about it. The huge monster hissed, clicked her claws and then squirted a fountain worth of acid at Piper. It missed her by a hand broad. Like a starting shot, the acid working its way through the wooden floor ripped her from her stun, kick-started her brain and made her legs run by themselves.

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her over the sandy lift to the concrete street. The darkness was all around, but Piper saw as if on day, her pupils huge from panic and adrenaline. Stumbling and slipping she made it onto the street, a cruel hiss betraying the acid shot coming at her. She ducked, but some drops made it onto her arm. The acid made short work of her sleeve and burned itself into her skin before it dissolved. Piper screamed in agony while she ran south, jumping over broken asphalt, dodging the acid squirted at her and praying to all gods listening for a miracle.

There was no lights anywhere. She wouldn't care for Raiders, Gunners, anyone as long as they would open fire on the Mirelurk Queen. But there were no lights, no life to be found anywhere. All things mortal had made way for the deadliest among them. Only Piper was in its way.

Another angry hiss and acid rained down upon Pipers legs. She screamed so loud that her whole body trembled as the acid burned through her skin and reached her muscles. She fell to the floor and smashed her head against the concrete. She lifted her hand and shot into the darkness. Shot after shot until the pistol clicked. Piper tried to jump to her feet, but her legs cramped. She dropped the gun and the metallic sound of it on the street was like death bells ringing.

It was pure force of will. It was Nat and Doc Sun and Nick Valentine, Mirna, Arcturo and Vadim in her head, all waiting for her to come back. Her legs cramped, but she ignored it. Her muscles burned like fire and the pain clouded her sense. She ran, despite it all. Tears rushed down her face and mixed with blood, streaming from her forehead. The red liquid blinded her on one eye, but she didn't see anything, anyway. She just ran, wherever her legs carried her. She screamed whenever spikes of pain rushed through her body, whenever another salve of acid rained down upon her.

A squirt at her back dissolved her trenchcoat. It fell down in pieces from her body and the vile burning liquid ate up her back skin.

"HEEELP!" she screamed that her vocal cords threatened to burst. "HELP MEEE!"

She felt blood in her mouth, the mere air burning when it touched her exposed muscles. She was blinded and stumbled over the street. The clicking of countless mirelurks was behind her. There was no light anywhere. Nobody would come.

She rand in a daze. Her vision was a blur and then she smashed against a door. She heard roaring from inside, but it was a sidenote at most. Her legs gave up, her back threatened to break and she gave up.

"Help…" she could only whisper, her voice broken and raspy from her screaming. The coppery taste of blood and the salt of her tears mixed in her mouth. She felt splinters of wood pierce her bloodied and vitriolised back as she slumped down the door she had crashed against. With her last strength, she whipped away the blood and tears from her eyes to face her demise.

There was a small army of mirelurks sprinting towards her. The Queen behind them all, like a demon and its imps, hunting for souls. She saw the glands of the Queen shoot another salve. It splashed against pipers upper body, burned through the last of her garment and slashed her skin like a thousand small blades. She wailed and screamed with desperation and anger, fitting of a last dying wail. Her voice pressed out all the hate she felt for the one that had done this to her. Nora.

The mirelurks drew close and no more acid rained down, now that the Queen was assured of an successful hunt. A wall of crabs was about to descend upon her and Piper resigned, the last tears rushing down her face. She whimpered because of the pain, but mostly because she was sure she would die.

The wall of crabs was all she could see.

Then, from the distance she heard someone shout. Maybe someone else was caught in the mirelurk's hunt, Piper thought. The shouts continued. There were different voices, male and female. They drew nearer, faster than the mirelurks. Bright flashes of light illuminated the night. The streams were a blur to Piper and her clouded brain replayed a scene in the back of her head where Arcturo told her about the uselessness of laser against a mirelurk shell. Didn't those people know this? Piper really hoped they could run away. One journalist was enough meal for the crabs today.

But the shouts didn't move away, instead they came nearer. Through the sounds of her heart pumping and her blood streaming she heard them now.

"BOMBARDA!"

"REDUCTO!"

"By Merlin, a bloody Queen!?… AVADA KEDAVRA!"

And then something smashed into her. She couldn't see through her blur, but it moved. It lifted her up and hugged her tight.

"Got you." A male voice reassured her and the arms held even tighter. "I GOT HER, FALL BACK!" he then commanded the other blurs from where the blinding lights came.

She whimpered when the rough fabric of the man's clothes rubbed over her back. But with every whimper he just held on tighter. Her blood was all over his clothes and she felt guilty in her dazed head for being such a dead weight. Her arms couldn't hold her own at his shoulders and she sagged like a dead body. She had no more energy left.

She was dropped onto a bed and many hands rid her of the rest of her clothes. She felt cooling salves be applied to the open wounds. Someone forced her mouth open and poured something vile into it that made her stomach grow hot and her limbs go numb. The needles of stimpacks penetrated her upper legs and soft hands washed the wounds clean.

She didn't see faces. Her eyes couldn't focus through the pain. She saw blond hair, jet black hair, brunettes and ginger. Bandages wrapped around her body and cooling salves were applied with them. The burns subsided and the pain was slowly becoming a cruel phantom.

Her mouth was forced open once again and another vile substance was poured into her. It made her even more dizzy. Her eyes fell shut and she couldn't open them anymore.

Before long she slept in darkness, with no nightmares of crab feet clicking on concrete.

OOO

Piper didn't know where she was or who those people around her were, but she knew that experiences dictated that some random wastelander was bad news. She made a quick summary of her wounds. Piper was sore all over. Her back felt like she was lying on a bed of needles. She had a headache that made every single one of her thoughts come slow and dull to her. Her throat was dry, sore and tasted like ash. Her skin, everywhere on her body, worked through numbed pain and was wrapped with bandages with something in them that soothed her wounds. It felt like dozens of fingers with sandpaper tips caressing her skin all over.

Actual fingers touched her legs and massaged them with something sticky. Whatever it was the soft hands applied, it made her acid burns numb. Piper could almost feel her skin closing over her muscles again.

"How is she doing?" a male voice asked from somewhere farther away in the room.

"She is still asleep, but her wounds heal quick and clean." An airy female voice answered in a tone that would just as well fit to describe the weather. "I just hope it won't leave scars. She has a very nice body. It would be a shame."

The man snorted at that and added a dry laugh. "Yes, Luna. Although I wager she won't mind one or two scars as long as she doesn't end up as mirelurk dinner."

"True," she breathed and then continued to massage Pipers legs. More than necessary, Piper assumed with a grim mood coming up in her brain.

"Say, are we going to have mirelurk stew for the next month?"

"Given how much we killed, I'd say we'll have it the next year:"

The woman stopped massaging and seemed to stop moving all together. Piper heard some rustling and then a loud laugh from the man. It sounded friendly enough, even though it was hoarse at the same time.

"Don't worry, Luna. Barney said we could trade some of it for Brahmin - that's cow, I suppose, and other meats. Also, we're trying to convince him to give up the cooking to Lilith or me."

"That would be nice." The relief in the woman's voice was kind of funny, Piper thought and pressed down a snort that threatened to escape her. She was supposed to be sleeping.

"Tell me when she wakes up, won't you? I'm helping Hermione scavenge the Convalescent Home down the road."

"Alright, Harry. Be safe,"

"Always,"

A door fell shut and the woman with the airy, soft voice continued to massage the cream onto Pipers leg. Eventually, she switched to the left leg and repeated the process. She changed bandages after that, always with the utmost care, while humming a soothing tune. The woman, Luna, was done with the bandage around Pipers belly when she began to chuckle.

"You can open your eyes, you know." She said.

Pipers eyes snapped open and she was almost blinded. Bright, white light awaited her eyes. The second time she opened them slowly and found that Luna held her hands above them to shield away some of the light. When she could finally open her eyes completely she saw a cute face with big, blue eyes, framed by silvery-blonde hair.

"Hello, stranger. I'm Luna Lovegood. How do you feel?" she smiled down at Piper like she hadn't a care in the world.

"Goo…argh." Piper croaked. Her throat was still dry and her vocal chords felt swollen.

"Here, drink this." Luna said and handed her a glass full of pure, clean water. Every gulp of it was heaven. It lessened the burn in her throat and washed the queer taste in her mouth away. "Better now?"

"Yes, thank you." Piper's voice was still croaking like a ghoul's, but at least she could form words now.

"So, how do you feel stranger? May I ask for you name?"

"Oh, swell, really. Nothing like life and death situations to get you going in the morning." Piper groaned and just tried to keep her head from wobbling around too much. Her brain felt like mush and swam around her skull as if loose. "Names, Piper…"

"Its nice to meet you, Piper. Are you hungry? You must be. You've slept for days."

"Wha… Days?"

"Three days, to be exact." Luna made her way to a dresser in the corner where a plate stood. On it, Piper saw some melon, some strips of meat and a full pitcher of that same clear water. The moment Luna sat down the table, Piper grabbed the pitcher and began to gulp down the water. Swallowing hurt, but she felt so thirsty that she couldn't quite care.

"Careful there. You don't want to get sick. Eat something." She held some of the beef to Piper and the injured journalist stuffed herself with the juicy pieces. Luna was right, she was famished and despite her normal dislike of the fruit, it tasted wonderful as she bit into the slices of sweet melon.

With a last swallow the plate was empty and the pitcher was bone dry. Piper was still hungry, but felt that asking for seconds would be horribly impolite towards the people who had saved her life. Which brought her to another line of questioning. "Who are you people? And where am I?"

Luna made a show of putting he finger to her nose as if to weight her answer. "I don't know how we call ourselves. I voted for Purple Pixies, but I was the only one. We don't have a name yet, unfortunately." Luna seemed to be actually insulted by that. "Where you are is simpler to answer. This is… was… is going to be the village of Salem."

Piper didn't quite know what to make of that and blamed her head, since it refused to think clear. The last time she had heard of Salem was from Nat. Another look at Luna and Piper was sure that with whomever she was, it wasn't the Institute. Raiders, Gunners and the Forged were also out of the question. If Piper had to describe her she would put her into a Grognak the Barbarian comic as one of the waifs the hero rescues on the daily.

The silver haired girl sent her another broad smile and stood up from her bedside. "I'm going to tell Harry that you're awake. He's our mayor, you see. There are a lot of questions surrounding you, Piper."

"Like what?" she croaked.

"I don't know. But I'm sure it has something to do with your race against the mirelurks." The girl smiled and then skipped out of the room, softly humming a tune.

After she heard two doors fall shut, Piper tried to stand up. Her legs were as heavy as concrete and moved about as well. She sat up, graceful like a rusty robot and took in the room around her. Clean, was the first word in her mind. Too clean, followed a little while later. The room had no wet spots, no rust on the furniture, no junk wood or reused scrap. Even the glasses on the drawer were clean and transparent as if new. The windows had heavy curtains of wine red fabric hanging in front of them and the walls were in a soft, cream color. The little sitting ensemble in front of the window was red and golden, perfect velvet. The bed she sat on had sheets. The last time she had seen those was when she had investigated on the upper stands. Those people had sheets. Rich people had sheets. But even those on the upper stands of Diamond city had little more than rags sewed together on their beds. What she sat in was perfect white, gold and red fabric without a tear or stain. Not to mention the stainless white shirt and shorts she had on herself.

She grabbed the drawer with the fine, intact veneer and pulled herself from the bed. Like a toddler she felt on her feet, but she made her way to the window by using the furniture and wall as support. For all she knew, she was either dead or in big trouble. There weren't many people with the right sized wallets that could afford this kind of luxury. Worse, all people in the Commonwealth she could think of that could afford it, weren't people she wanted to be even a little indebted to. So, step for step, she made it to the window. Piper fell into the armchairs and marvelled at the way the springs in it were still intact. She pulled the curtains away and took a look outside.

 _That is the Commonwealth alright._ She thought when she found the destroyed skyline of Boston on the horizon. She was also sure that she was still in the north, according to what she saw. There was the Boston Airport tower, the green towers that stood in Cambridge and Libertalia at the far left of the scenery. This city under her window could be Salem, but it certainly didn't add up with what the traders spoke of. The streets and walls - especially the walls - were not the 'destroyed and mirelurk infested one-man show of a crazy old fool'.

Beneath her she saw a plaza, with a bunch of people busying themselves with the construction of a shop, it seemed. The streets were clean of debris, the benches painted in a cheerful lime green and at the far end of the plaza there was another group of people renovating a burnt out diner. She saw some of the people running around in strange looking dresses, of sorts. They waved a stick of wood around and…

Piper whirled around in her seat when she heard the lock clicking and the door opening with a creak. In the doorframe stood a man with jet black hair who was dressed in a similar dress outfit. However, instead of the simple black, he was clad in burgundy red and sturdy, black leather boots. Despite all that, her gaze found his eyes in an instant and were caught in the stinging green of them.

"Hello," the man spoke, his lips barely moving. He remained in the doorframe, eyes unmoving and solid as a rock. His build wasn't large by any means and he was about the same height as Piper. Nevertheless, his presence was as intimidating as it was commanding. "I see you can move again. I'm glad… we weren't sure if you would survive."

"Thanks," Piper croaked out. Still her voice was raspy as any old matrons. "For everything, I guess. I was sure that this would be it."

"It was a close call. The acid had burned through to your organs and started to work on your spine. Even a minute later and all we could have done was to put you out of your misery." The man walked, head high up to the second chair under the window.

Pipers gaze lingered on the door, but she shook her head. She was kidding herself when she thought about running. Her feet were as good as shoes made of lead and her bones were made of rubber and wishful thinking. The man must've seen her look, for his own expression switched from neutral to a faint, but benevolent smile.

"You have nothing to fear from us." He said in a quiet voice.

"That's what they always say." She muttered, arms crossed in front of her chest. A move she quickly regretted when the touch on her chest burned like salt in the wounds. She tried to hold back the wince, but the swelling tears in her eyes gave her away. "Who are you people anyway?"

"We are the Settlers of Salem. I am Harry Potter, mayor of said village. Who are you?"

"I'm Piper… . Piper Wright. Investigative Journalist."

"Journalist? Now that's a profession I didn't expect to survive the apocalypse. I'm not sure if I should be grateful that there are still enough literate people out there to make a newspaper profitable or resentful that not even atomic bombs can save us from the gutter press."

"It didn't save us from people trying to hide something, so somebody has to dig to get the truth."

"The truth is often a matter of perspective."

"That may be, but if something smells like brahmin, walks likebrahmin and has two heads, chance is…"

"I yield, I yield," the mayor, Harry Potter, laughed and raised his hands in surrender. "Lets just say that I had my troubles with… uhm… overzealous journalists and leave it at that. We have more to discuss. For example, where do you come from and what are you doing out there, alone with nothing but your fists to defend yourself?"

"Well, I _had_ a pistol."

"A pistol?"

"Yes,… te… uhm… ten millimetre."

"You had a ten millimetre pistol? In an area infested with mirelurks and deathclaws, not to mention ghouls, raiders and gunners? Geez, you came prepared, didn't you?"

"It wasn't my fault!" Piper tried to shout at him, but the words came out as a weak cark. "I had armour, weapons and all. They just… well, I don't have them anymore."

The mayor nodded, filling the information away in his head before he raised his hand in a calming gesture. "If you don't want to talk about what happened exactly, its your call. I am just trying to figure out who you are and, from our standpoint, you looked like a loon, no gun and all. So, where are you from?"

"I'm from Diamond City."

"The baseball stadium settlement, right?"

"Riiight…" Piper leaned back in her chair, trying but failing to get a read on the man in front of her. "You never been to Diamond City?"

"Only heard from it. People call it the green jewel, but as far as I understand its a bunch of shacks who happen to have plumbing."

"Not everyone can sleep in… ok, I got a question here. Where did you get these sheets from? This furniture, the curtains, the paint for the walls? How is your dress not dirty?"

At that the mayor leaned back and a wicked smile graced his face. "Now that," he began with a huge smile, "is our little secret at Salem. And its not a dress, its a robe."

"See what I meant with people hiding stuff? Come on, spill it!"

"Smooth, Mrs. Investigative Journalist. You almost had me there with your twisted questioning."

"Damnit Potter, my head is about as bloated as…as… well it hurts. You'd be squirming by now if I could think straight."

"Then I guess I won't give this to you." He laughed and let a phial of some murky, blue substance dangle before her.

"What's that?" she demanded.

"Potion against headaches." He stated in a tone as if that was just the most normal thing to say.

"A… a potion?" Piper asked, her voice betraying the mocking tone she tried to hold back. "As in, potion brewed in a cauldron while a coven chanting spells dances around it?"

"Well… nobody dances around it and you don't need any spells."

"You're kidding me."

"I am not. Try it."

"That could be poison."

"That could also be flesh eating healing salve you got on those bandages."

She squinted her eyes as she searched the eyes of Harry Potter for some lie or deceive. She knew better than to trust just anyone in the wastelands, but he had a point. They had sturdy, concrete walls, turrets and food. They could have let her be mirelurk food and be done with it and little difference as it made, but she was sure she wasn't a prisoner. Plus, if she was honest with herself, the only reason she was giving Potter contra was the fact that he was a mayor and politicians didn't deserve better. "Alright," she snapped and grabbed the phial. She quaffed off the blue stuff and nearly hurled it back at the man when her tongue registered the taste.

"Jesus, that's disgus…" she started but then the pain in her forehead vanished like it had never been there in the first place. She looked at the grinning mayor in front of her and despite her claims, she couldn't think straight, quite the contrary. "Holy shit!" was the only thing she could muster.

"I take it, it worked."

"Yes, yes… it gone, the headache. Just… how?"

"Magic,"

She couldn't hold back rolling her eyes at the mayor. "Of course. Let me just grab my witches hat and my broom and we can fly off to Beltane."

"I'm pretty sure its not spring."

"What?"

"Beltane. That's celebrated in spring, not autumn. The next big fest is Samhain." Harry said and then stopped, thinking. "Maybe we should celebrate it? It would be a good way to christen our new village."

"Alright, hold up there buddy." Piper waved her arms around. "Potions, Samhain and all that in Salem. Are you trying to tell me you're witches and warlocks?"

"Witches and wizards, but basically, yes. Yes, that's what I'm trying to tell you." When Piper looked at him like he had a second head, the mayor chuckled and drew his wooden stick from his dress. "Let me show you." He said with a broad grin.

Then he waved his stick in a pattern that seemed just random to Piper and mumbled something she couldn't understand. She took another look at the door, but again, it could be a hundred yards away and it would be just as unreachable in her state. The mumbling stopped and Piper looked at Harry Potter again, only to see nothing had changed, just his grin got goofier.

"So, oh mighty mage, what's supposed to happen?" she mocked and when she leaned forward to deliver another blow of sarcasm, a roar made her jump from the chair and fall to the ground. Her spine almost snapped so fast did she whirl around. There before her, a huge, brown bear stood where previously there was a drawer. The beast roared through the room and Piper started screaming.

"Finite!" she heard Harry say and the bear warped, transformed into a drawer.

Now she was absolutely positive. She was dead and somewhere in a weird, mystical afterlife where freaking drawers warp into Yao Guais and back into wooden furniture.

"You may want to close your mouth, else you catch flies." Harry said between his mocking laughter. He then waved his wand again and Piper started hovering above the ground. She couldn't scream so she just stared in shock at the grinning face of Harry Potter, mayor and obviously, wizard. With herculean effort she closed her mouth that seemed frozen in shock, but she couldn't get her eyes from staring at the one who had just done the impossible… twice. Thrice even, if she counted the potion.

She leaned back in the chair and sunk down along the soft velvet of its fabric, staring, wondering and thinking a mile a minute. Nat's comment came back to her mind, about the man screaming about magic in Salem. It fit, but at the same time, it just couldn't fit. There was no such thing as magic. Science has gone far, she knew, but even the strangest form of it did not transform a drawer into a bear and back.

"Listen, Mrs. Wright… Piper. Can we agree that I have powers you do not understand and can we also agree that these powers are not exclusive to me?"

Piper nodded.

"Then let me explain why I was so eager to meet you. You see, Barney Rook told me you have a bit of a reputation, it seems."

Suddenly the whirlwind in her head stopped and took a seat at the sideline. "What do you mean by that? No matter what you heard, I'm just printing the truth!"

"The fact that you feel the need to defend against that without being accused of it, makes me think otherwise."

"Oh, har har… what is it then, smartass?"

"Barney told me that if I need to find someone, there are two people in the Commonwealth who could help me. One is you, the other is someone called Nick Valentine."

"Find someone? How original," she snarled a painful memory of Nora flashing through her mind.

Harry raised his eyebrows at that. "Does it happen often that people need to find someone?"

"Ever heard of the Institute?"

"Heard yes, but all just myths and rumours. Not exactly what I would build an opinion on."

"Lets just say that their favourite pastime is making people disappear. So who are you looking for?"

Harry then produced a journal from his dress and laid it onto the table. When Piper wanted to grab it, he slammed a hand on it and his eyes grew cold for a second. She backed off and made sure to listen very well to whatever came next. Her journalistic instincts told her that the core of her next story was about to be revealed.

"This is not for your eyes. It is the journal of the scribe of the last settlement of magicals here. Its a… it does not show our culture in the best of light, if you understand. Vile things happened here, and I need your help to right the wrongs committed by my kind."

"Tell me, what happened here?" she pushed.

Harry's eyes grew cold again and stayed that way while he looked at the journal with nothing short of hate. "It has always been the cancer of our society that we thought us above those without magic. Given our numbers, that often led to radical methods when it came to ensuring the next generation."

"Oh, Jesus…"

"You can imagine what I mean." His voice was now as cold as his eyes. It brought a shiver down Pipers spine. Harry drew a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. When he released it he had his eyes closed and his features relaxed with every bit of air he pressed out. His eyes were the warm, emerald green again afterwards and his voice was back to normal. "The last years and days of the authors life were spent producing children in a desperate effort to secure a generation of wizards and witches. There are two leads and I need your help so I can follow them. First off, does the name Cathrine Finnigan ring a bell?"

"No, sorry. Do you have something more than that?"

"Female, irish decent, probably red hair. Was given to and grew up with farmers around here." He said and his tone reminded Piper of the no-nonsense investigation persona Nick Valentine fell into in these situations.

"Irish… red hair…" Piper stroked her chin while going through her mental archives of faces until it clicked and what she found made her grimace. "Oh boy,"

"What is it? You have someone fitting?"

"Well, there is someone, but whatever she is, its not a witch."

"What's her name?"

"Cait,"

"Cait and?"

"Just Cait."

"And where would we find this Cait?" Harry leaned forward and a pen in his hand was waiting to write notes on a piece of paper.

"The Combat Zone," Piper said and watched as he began to write. "She's a fighter… _the_ fighter there. She was a huge attraction back in the days when I started this whole journalist thing."

"And now?"

"Now the Combat Zone is Raider territory. Word is they still have fights there, its just the audience that changed for the worse. I can't tell you if she's still alive."

"We'll see. Raiders are not an obstacle for us, more of an inconvenience, really."

"What will you do if you find her?" Piper asked. She had never liked the irish brute that was Cait, but she wasn't heartless enough to wish her ill. As far as she knew, it was just as likely that Cait did herself in with Psycho as it was that she got killed by some Raider.

"Give her a chance to claim her inheritance. The journal says that she was given away at a very young age. Magic ability often doesn't show itself for a lot longer. The scribe I told you about claimed she was a squib - a person with no magic born to people with magic. But there is no way to test it at this age and the general poor knowledge of the man… Well, I want to check if shes a witch and if she is, invite her to join us."

"Alright." Piper said, leaning back into the chair. "You'll need someone to guide you through the Commonwealth. Those children could be anywhere."

"Any recommendation for that task?"

Piper just smiled and opened her arms with her thumbs pointing at her.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"Nobody, except maybe two or three others know the big, bad Commonwealth as well as I do. We're in a love hate relationship you could say. Also, I wouldn't ask a fortune for my services."

"What would you ask?"

Harry wasn't sure if he should fear or like the grin that spread over the journalists face at that point.

"Oh, its nothing really," Piper sing-sanged. "Just a pen and a notebook."

 **Hey there. I hoped you like this one. I found that I hate writing "building sequences" and it shows, but I hope you had fun with it anyway. PLS Review and all that fuzz, you know the drill.**

 **Ad victoriam, civilian.**


	3. The Wanderer - Dion & The Belmonts

It had been another week until Piper could stand in front of the window of what she now knew was her own room for the time being. It wasn't a guest room, wasn't some fancied up place to intimidate or impress outsiders with. It was a simple room, for simple people and just the one that no one needed at the moment. Magic they had told her, was capable of many things. Among those things were miracles that she only ever heard of in the fairytales her father had read to her. Wounds that should have killed her were barely visible anymore. The scars were mere white lines on her still pale skin. To think that Luna had apologized because the salves and draughts didn't work quite as well on people without magic as they did for witches and wizards. They still worked wonders.

It was early in the morning and the sun rose above the horizon. With the first light, the ever growing village of Salem rose from its slumber and the guards on the wall ended their shifts. Piper could have slept in, like she had done the last week, but today she was allowed by Luna and Harry, the two that constantly had an eye on her, to leave her bed.

Whatever was to come on this day, Piper already marked it as a good one. Not only was her body feeling as good as new, Luna had finished scraping together Piper's trademark trenchcoat and even found her hat with the little "Press" sign on the side. Piper could only guess that Luna had done some waving of her wand, spoke some gibberish and then had the coat ready with a bunch of new, clean clothes for Piper to wear. Even the tears and permanent stains that had been on the coat before the Mirelurk-race were gone. It had been a most pleasing sight to see the bundle waiting for her when she woke up.

Dressed in her trenchcoat she stepped towards the door that would lead out of her room. Over a week she had stayed bed ridden and miserable. Finally she would see the village that took such good care of her. The door opened with barely a noise and opened up into a hallway with the same wooden floor, white walls and more doors along the way. At the far end of the corridor she could see the stairs leading down to the entry hall of the apartment building. An entire apartment building renovated to almost pre-war condition. The mere thought boggled the mind. For the first time in her life Piper was confronted with the thought that writing about something would be a bad idea. Salem would be overrun by settlers from the entire east coast. One wouldn't think it, but through traders and organisations like the Gunners, Public Occurrences had a vast reach. It took articles a week to travel to the Capital Wasteland, another to reach the Pitt and it took over a year for very few of them to reach California. But her newspaper did reach these places and one could only imagine what would happen if she wrote about a group of people capable of restoring pre-war buildings to pristine condition, provide food for years and defend against armies.

Piper shook herself from her musing as she opened up the front door of the building that led to the plaza next to the church.

"Miss Wright, its good to see you healthy and well."

Piper looked at the settler that stood at her right, rifle on his shoulder and deep bags under his eyes. He obviously wasn't one of the wizards, but their workings were evident on him. His clothes were repaired, his hair trimmed and washed, wounds healed and in his hands he held some sort of food Piper could vaguely make out as some sort of baked good.

The settler followed her gaze and smiled when he held up the food to her. "They, the wizards I mean, call it a cross-o, or something along those lines. I'm sure I mispronounce it. Breakfast is ready in the diner."

"Thanks," Piper muttered, "And thanks, I'm feeling good."

"A good day to you then. I'm going for a nap. The late shift, you know."

"Good night, then."

The fact that the man then entered the building she had just come from drove home the point that this was somewhere the people of the village actually lived. She shook her head, thinking that she should stop being surprised and made her way to the bright, red building opposite to the church. The plaza she crossed was done in gravel and buckets with blooming mutfruit bushes stood at the border between graveled plaza and concrete street. The street was still broken at some places, but Piper figured that it was probably at the very last place on any list of priority. The church was somewhere between repairs. The windows were still without glass, but the roof seemed to be in pristine condition once again. She also saw the bell shining copper-brown in the morning light within the restored tower of the building. The crosses had been removed and instead a triangular symbol with a line and a circle in it loomed over the plaza. Piper figured it must be some kind of wizard religion thing and made a mental note to ask.

When she came closer to the diner she heard the typical noise of many voices at one place. Big screens of glass, a big shiny sign reading 'Diner', it all didn't register quite as much as seeing the whole village sans the night-shifters sitting together at the polished metal tables, enjoying their breakfast. She knew from what Harry and Luna had told her that the village had grown by a few people over the week. But seeing a good two dozen people sitting there, enjoying themselves…

"Stop being surprised, Piper." She muttered to herself.

Somewhere a bell rang as she entered the diner and a few people waved at her. Piper thought she knew a few faces, mostly from her visits to some farms for past investigations. There were all kinds of personalities around and she took the mix of people in as she walked towards an empty bar-chair. Most of them were farmers, plain and simple. Their linen and leather clothes were made for work, their faces tanned by the sun. But in between the bustle there was one, talking to a blond woman opposite to her - that had the trademark tattoos of a raider on her. The black stripes down her chin, the black color all over her eyes and forehead and the shaved head of the woman told one everything of her, except why she was in this diner, eating breakfast.

Piper sat down next to a woman with bushy, brown hair, reading an enormous tome, her breakfast cold and forgotten next to her. She was clad in a simple black shirt and cargo pants. There were pens sticking out from her pockets and a journal where notes stood out left and right was fixed onto her belt.

"Good morning," Piper greeted the woman.

She barely looked up from her tome, her eye wandering along the lines of text. "'Mornin." She answered.

Piper raised an eyebrow at that. "I'm Piper."

"I know,"

"And your name is?"

"Hermione,"

"Okay then," Piper frowned at the young woman and turned away from her, looking for the source of breakfast. The bar she sat at was separating the main room from the kitchen. Food was sizzling in pans and inside an oven more of the cross-o, or whatever they were called, took on a golden brown as they finished baking. All of it was waiting to be arranged on plates with cut mutfruit and melon.

Not a minute later the backdoor opened and in came Harry with a white apron protecting his robes.

"Hey, good morning, Piper." He walked over to her, the small smile on his face she came to know over the week. "Breakfast?"

"Yes please, I'm starving."

Harry didn't even look away from her. He just flicked his wand and some meat, one of the fresh cross-os, all combined with the fruits came hovering to her on a plate. With another flick of his wand, he got a pitcher of fresh water for her and a swish made a glass appear from thin air.

"You know, I'll probably never get used to this magic stuff."

"Eventually you will, I'm sure. There'll be plenty of it to see for you on our trips."

She swallowed some of the melon before she hooked onto that statement. "About that. When do you think we'll head out? I'm feelin' dandy, so anytime is ok with me."

"So anxious to get your article done?"

Piper was about to deny it, but thought better of it. "You know, I could say that I'm doing it out of the goodness of my heart - which I do, I'm a good human, just so you know - but I did stumble upon the greatest piece of news since the war, so yes, my pen's at the ready and waiting."

"Very well, then." Harry nodded and glanced over to the still reading Hermione. The witch nodded back as if she had seen him. "Hermione is taking over my duties as major, as few as there are anyway, in my absence. We can get moving as soon as you're done with breakfast."

"Is anyone else coming with us?"

"No. Hermione and the others are trying to reinforce the village even more. I thought about taking Fingers with me, but she asked to stay."

"Fingers?"

Harry pointed behind her. "Tattoos on her face, shaved head. I'm sure you've seen her already."

"She's a Raider."

"Was a Raider." Harry immediately shot back. "You weren't here and, technically, aren't even a Salem Settler, so you don't know this. Fingers was questioned and we deemed her worthy of a chance. She proved to be quite valuable, actually."

"If you say so, Harry. But I won't pretend that I'm unhappy she's not coming with us." Piper said, sure to convey by her tone alone what she really thought of that. She did pride herself to be of the tolerant kind, but no other fact of the Commonwealth was as written in stone as 'Once a Raider, always a Raider'.

"She's not coming, anyway, so the point is moot." Harry said, his tone making quite clear that he had just ordered the subject closed. "Meet me at the gates in about an hour. Then we'll head out to the Combat Zone."

It had already started to be a blazing hot day outside when a group of people gathered at the gates to say goodbye to not only Harry and Piper, but also the very first caravan that had made its way to Salem. Settler were checking one last time on their placed orders, making sure the trader would under no circumstances forget about the weapon, machine-part or Nuka-Cola delivery. On the other side of the road hunting parties were checking their equipment one last time. They would be looking for radstags, yao guai and whatever else that wasn't a mirelurk and edible.

Harry observed all this with what he hoped looked like stoic calm. Inside he felt nervous, worried and so much more, it all boiled up into quite the weight on his shoulders. He blamed it on his old habit of trying to keep everyone safe. Even if he would have had a good laugh about it weeks ago, now he felt those people to be _his_ people, and that made him worry. He'd love to keep them all isolated from the outside, and the hunting parties weeding and hacking away on Neville's fields, safe from Deathclaws, Raiders and all the other horrors the Commonwealth had to offer. However, _his people_ had made it quite clear that despite magic, despite the bliss of having to worry about nothing, they wanted to earn their keep.

The real reason would probably be found between them wanting to earn their keep, and them being horribly bored, Harry mused. And didn't he know it? It hadn't been a month after killing Voldemort that he went back out into the field to hunt dark wizards. He had said he felt it was his duty, but truth of the matter was that he has had just no idea what to do with himself. He thought it would probably be close to, if not outright impossible for someone who has fought for his life, against the wasteland, every day he woke up in the morning, to just settle down and do nothing but stare at clouds in the sky.

So he felt he had to let them go. Not that he could keep them in Salem even if he wanted to. Harry just hoped that the bit of protection charms they had allowed would keep them somewhat safe. At this point, Harry was just glad that his friends had agreed to keep themselves busy within the walls, building the school, a hospital and a storage hall.

The hunters left a few minutes later, together with the caravan on the route west, towards Pittsburgh, or 'the Pitt' as the Wastelanders called it. Harry kept staring at them until the gate shut close.

"They'll be fine." Harry turned around to see Hermione stand close behind him.

"I think I get used to this mayor stuff." Harry joked. "Worrying about the people that live in the village is part of the job, I suppose."

"As always, you worry too much about others. They'll be fine. You should think about your own hide, this time. It will be just you and Piper out there."

"And she knows her way around. If anything happens we apparate right out of there. Promise."

"Yea, you better." Harry almost fell over when Hermione slammed into him for a hug. "If you don't come back, mister, I'll…"

"I know." Harry entangled himself from the hug, so that he could look right at Hermione. "I'll be as cautious as I can be. Everything by the book. If we find ourselves in trouble, we are out of there." He saw her barely holding back tears, but knew she would rather not show weakness. It was why he chose her to oversee the village.

"I'm still not entirely convinced that we should seek out those children. Not… I mean, I know how this must sound, but after all, this Cait is probably a squib."

"We had this discussion."

"I know, but still…"

"And we have decided that we should seek them, find them and bring them here - the children I mean, should there be any. Cait is the starting point. She is the only one named, and I just feel we should follow this lead, as I said before."

"We could pay people to find her."

"Hermione," Harry rubbed his eyes, tiring of the same discussion they've had for over a week, every day, without fail.

"Oh, Merlin, fine, have it your way, you stubborn prat!" She then grabbed the package that was next to her and held it out to Harry. "We expected nothing else from you anyway,…"

"We?" Harry asked.

"Yes, Daphne, Luna and I." She added in her typical, exasperated way, that she had also used to explain to him why doing his homework a day before deadline was a bad idea. "We thought you should at least blend in a bit and bought some armor and a rifle from the caravan. You know… so that you don't run around with a huge target on your back in the form of perfect, new-looking robes."

"That is…" Harry started.

"A very good idea! Now put this on, Harry Potter." Hermione interrupted and pressed the package into his arms, guiding him to a as of yet not repaired house to change.

Just a few minutes later, Harry emerged from a small room in one of the still demolished houses in his new, wasteland approved outfit. It felt weird on his skin that was used to fine wool and silk. The linen of the undershirts was scratching on his body and the body armor he wore now was a considerable additional weight. The only positive thing he could say about the outfit was that it looked intimidating and may even help against the occasional stray bullet.

Piper was checking her pistol on the way to the gate. She had hoped that people might lend her a rifle or something, but as she was still not a Salem Settler, she didn't get anything but four magazines worth of munitions. Frankly, that was more than she would have gotten anywhere else, but still, she was quite taken aback at her first real confrontation with the "in-" and "out-group" of Salem.

Her pistol would have to do, and again, she reminded herself, she got a wizard with her. If anything of size would attack them, he'd say some mumbo-jumbo and the thing was bloody mist.

She arrived at the plaza before the gate, where some settlers said their goodbyes to a group of hunters that would go into the woods west of the Glowing Sea where the game was less fought over than the meager numbers of radstags in the Commonwealth were. She got her notebook out and penned down a few observations. It would make some nice fluffy lines, the way in which the villagers of Salem said good luck, the mothers and lovers hugging the life out of their beloved ones.

She looked around, but saw no Harry waiting for her. Instead, she saw the brown haired woman, Hermione Granger, he had made his interim mayor, walking up and down the street, biting her lower lip and twisting her wand in her fingers.

"You know, I think Harry is a big boy. He'll be fine."

"Says you," the witch barked back.

"Whats that supposed to mean?" In that moment Piper cherished the fact that she was a tad bit taller than the witch. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and tried to look as much like a wasteland veteran as she could.

Hermione didn't flinch, nor did she hold back on her answer. "That means that I think the one who got nearly eaten by a bunch of crabs isn't exactly fit to judge anyones survivability."

"Low blow, Granger. You know that wasn't my fault."

"But going on some suicide mission with a stranger was, Wright!" In any other situation, Piper would have laughed at the way in which Granger went red in anger. However, being on the receiving end killed the humor. "I honestly have no idea why he would take you and not, for example, Fingers."

"The Raider?, You can't be serious!"

"The Salem Settler that has killed Deathclaws by herself." Granger shot right back, now red as a Tato. "The one who actually owns a high caliber rifle. The one who has a full suit of armor and does more guard duty than anyone else. The one who is actually calling Harry her mayor."

Piper was about to lay into Hermione when the witch quickly turned and looked at something behind Piper. She turned as well, to see Harry strolling out of a house, clad in an old leather coat ,steel-plate body armor and real Commonwealth brahmin leather boots. The only thing that separated him from any other run of the mill wastelander was his clean shaved face free of dirt and grime. He also held the combat rifle as if it was a vile thing to him.

"Hey, Piper. Are you ready to go?"

"Sure," she pressed out. Piper wanted to say something snarky, something insulting to Hermione but it would have to wait. ' _Lets just get out of here_ she figured and made to go to the gate. However, the witch wasn't done, yet.

"Harry, do you have your broom?" Granger stood in front of Harry, straightening his cloak, checking the latches on his armor and fixing his twisted collar. It brought an amused smile on his face when he answered. "Yes, shrunken and in my pocket."

"Your potions?"

"Yes,"

"Your wand?"

"Excuse me? Of course!"

"Rad-Away and Stimpacks?"

"Double yes,"

"Your rations?"

"Yeees,"

"Your…"

Harry snatched up Hermione's hands, a huge smile on his face and made her look him in the eyes. "Yes, Hermione, to everything. I got it all packed and triple checked by you."

"Alright… I just… be safe Harry."

"I will," he promised. "And I made something for you."

Hermione looked up to him, confused. Harry held out a little rectangular package, wrapped in some paper. She took it and opened it carefully, fold for fold, until she held a small mirror in her hand.

"Is that…?"

"Yes, I figured it out last… uhm… one plus 200 years ago, or so." He made a show of calculating, getting the young witch to at least smile. "Its a Communication mirror. I haven't really figured out how to start conversations both-ways, but I can contact you. You'll hear from me whenever there is time. I promise."

"Harry, don't go." Hermione pleaded, but Piper could see that she knew it was for naught. However, all her anger at the young witch was distant memory at that point. Hermione looked completely lost.

"I'll be back home as soon as I can. You keep busy here. Get the glasshouses going, set up some more defenses and maybe you can even start on furnishing the school? Maybe I'll even bring you some students?"

"I will Harry," she whispered. "And that would be amazing."

"See you later, then." He said and gestured to the guards to open the gates.

"Take care," she said and waved Piper and Harry goodbye.

They strolled out of the gate and down the street. Harry was looking for a place on the horizon he could go to with something he explained worked like teleportation. Piper was stocked to try that out. Her enthusiasm was damped, however, by the scene she had just witnessed.

"She cares deeply for you. Are you two…?"

Harry shook his head, his eyes never leaving the horizon. "No, we aren't lovers. At some point we could have been, I suppose, but that was long ago. We always felt better in some sort of brother-sisters relationship."

"Close knit family, then."

"My only family left, yes. I don't know what I would do without her."

"She is a nag, though." Piper waited, judging the facial expression of Harry to see if she was walking along some lines better not to cross, but he only had an amused grin on his face, so she continued. "I have never seen this woman in a good mood."

"She wasn't for the longest time. None of us are, really, some are just better at covering it up."

"But things go really well, don't they?"

"I suppose," Harry answered, not really invested in the discussion. "Hey, that factory over there looks like a good spot to start, doesn't it?"

Harry had trouble taking long steps away from the gate. He felt Hermione's eyes on his back, begging him to stay. But he went on and didn't look back. He would call her over the mirror first chance he got. If everything went according to plan, they would be at the Combat Zone at the end of the day, anyway and back to Salem in another three to four days.

Also, he thought, the feeling he got when he spotted his first apparition target was right there with his sense for adventure.

"Yea, the roof looks good. Just make sure to have your wand ready when we get up there. You can never know who awaits in a factory." Piper grabbed her own gun and tensed up, waiting for something to happen.

Harry grabbed her hand and made sure to have a tight grip on it. "This will feel really weird. Don't fight it and let me guide you, okay?"

Piper nodded and almost bounced on her feet in excitement.

' _Maybe I should tell her about the nausea? Nah…'_ Harry gave back a grin and concentrated on landing right on top of the factory on the horizon. With a twist of his body, both of them were compressed as if they'd squeeze through a garden hose. Almost at the same time, they were spit out from whatever non-space they traveled through and landed on the concrete of the roof.

Harry looked at Piper. She was still grabbing onto his hand, but the rest of her body swayed like crazy. She looked shell shocked. He couldn't help himself, he laughed so loud his voice must've been heard back in Salem.

It quickly died in his throat when his own stomach made grumbling noises.

"Ugh… Harry, is this… normaaa…" Piper stopped mid sentence as she hurled her breakfast onto the roof. He knew something went horribly wrong when he saw her vomit having a deep red color. "Harry…?" she whined and vomited another time until she dry-heaved.

Harry couldn't answer. He felt the world twist around him with horrible vertigo. He touched his own body, making sure he didn't splinch himself. There was no red spot of blood anywhere on his clothing and he felt no pain from missing chunks of flesh. Harry fell to his knees. He felt weak and his skin burned as if he'd been lying in the sun for the last three days. "Bloody hell, what…" he spluttered. His stomach cramped up again and this time he felt the bile rise up in his mouth.

"Harry…" he heard Piper whine. He looked over and almost let loose a shout. She looked awful. Piper shivered all over as she barely kept upright on her hands and knees. "Harry, "she said again "I know this… feeling… it's… radiation… Rad-Away…hurry…" then she collapsed onto the concrete.

He lost no time. Crawling the short distance between her and him, he came next to her and started rummaging in his pockets. His Rad-Aways was stored in the inside of his jacket and he cursed as his shivering hands kept getting stuck in the many layers of steel-plating and leather. Eventually he grabbed two bags of the brown fluid and let them drop onto the floor. The easy part was done.

"I'm so sorry…" he whispered as he maneuvered the needle into Pipers arm. He was sure he messed something up and the wound he created was horrible. His shivers had grown so heavy, he could not hold the needle straight. Blood came from the puncture in Piper's arm and he saw a huge bruise form around it, but at least the Rad-Away started flowing into her.

Harry bit on the fabric of his collar as he did the same to himself. Muffled screams threatened to become loud ones as he stuck the needle into his vein. Blood squirted, but Harry didn't notice at this point. His sight was clouded and once again the nausea and vertigo wreaked havoc with his senses. Some seconds of agony later he felt the Rad-Away flow into him.

The aggressive fluid worked quick and he felt his body stop shivering and his sight clearing. However, it had taken a lot out of him. With just enough energy left in his muscles he grabbed two stimpacks, rammed one of it in Piper's upper leg and one in his own.

 _Merlin bless muggles for stimpacks_ , he thought before he collapsed onto Piper's back, exhausted and drained.

The first three things Piper noticed when she woke up was the black, night sky, the weight on her back and the incredible urge to go to the toilet. It took her a while to get it into context. Her mind was hazy and her thoughts felt dull. She pushed herself up and felt the weight on her glide off her back and hit the concrete with a whack. Not looking what exactly had slipped from her back she ran for the next corner and did her business.

"I hate radiation." She groaned in frustration when she remembered why she was passed out on the roof of a factory, with no protection from anything that could follow them onto the roof. Her entire body hurt and she figured she had just survived the worst radiation poisoning she ever had, even worse than the one she picked up during her run-in with the Children of Atom.

She stumbled back to the place where she had collapsed. There Harry lay on his side. He held the mirror in his hand and spoke into it with hushed voice, but all the more vehemence.

"No, I will not come back now, Hermione. If I hadn't made this mistake, somebody else would have. We can't cancel plans just because of complications."

Piper heard the bossy witch shout at him, and not in the friendly way or a worried way. Granger blew up and Piper was almost surprised that there wasn't a mushroom cloud over Salem.

"If you keep being like this I'll cancel this conversation right here, right now." He hissed back at her.

Granger didn't stop shouting. If anything her voice changed from exploding Mini Muke to detonating Vault reactor.

"Maybe I will!" Harry shouted back with a voice loud enough they could've communicated without the mirrors. "Maybe Diamond City is a nice place to live, who knows? At least I won't have a witch there waiting to nag my ears off."

"Harry, not so loud!" Piper hissed at him.

"Yeah, sorry," he said back, without really looking. He continued speaking into the mirror with lowered voice, but practiced authority. "Listen, Hermione. I won't come back now. I will look for Cait and those children. You remember, no apparition and if you send someone after us, the broom incident from third year will get serious competition as the fiercest row we ever had, do you understand me?" he waited for a few second. "Good. Now go to sleep. I'll be in touch tomorrow."

Harry tapped the mirror with his wand and rolled over to look at the sky. He looked horrible. Red blisters on his skin reminded her that he too had suffered from severe poisoning. He also looked tired to boot and exasperated from the little argument he just had.

"A real nag, that one." Piper said as she sat down, back to a chimney.

"You haven't even heard the part where I told her that apparition apparently gives us radiation poisoning." He sat up and with a few shoves of his body sat right next to her against the chimney. "She was shouting so loud, she startled the guards."

"I can not imagine anyone shouting louder than what I've just heard."

"Oh no, her volume didn't change. She just used a Silencing charm."

"Naturally," Piper said, adding the new charm into her mental archive of the abilities of witches and wizards. "Any ideas on why you almost killed us?"

"First off, sorry,"

"Apology accepted,"

"And no, I don't know. Nobody really understands Apparition."

"How can you use it then?"

"Same as most spells. We can use it because we believe we can."

"That makes no sense."

"Welcome to magic, enjoy your stay."

Piper snorted in amusement and soon joined in the chuckles of Harry that kept getting harder and louder over time. Soon they were holding their bellies while trying to keep their laughs as silent as possible. Their laugh was interrupted by gunshot and muzzle-fire flaring up from the bottom of the factory. They heard shouts of anger and commands from down there, accompanied by the sound of grenades exploding.

"Oh, yeah, right, I almost forgot we were in the middle of the wasteland." Harry joked. He didn't seem that worried about a bit of bullets flying.

Piper however immediately scanned the roof for stairs, trapdoors or other ways of people coming upon them. Her eyes went wide when she saw a big, bright-yellow set of stairs directly onto the roof. Panicking, she whirled her head around, looking for some place to hide. On the roof was nothing but a few vents and another set of stairs leading onto a metal plateau.

"Harry, can you lock and unlock doors?"

Harry had looked over the roof while Piper was searching for a hiding spot. He just turned around, nodded and gestured her to go ahead.

Piper grabbed her pistol. She aimed for the stairs while she moved towards the plateau, never leaving them out of her sight. Harry was right behind her, rifle on the back and wand pointing towards the area of potential danger. As worrying as it was, Piper gave a silent thanks to the ongoing firefight. Nobody would hear their steps on the metal stairs.

"Give me a second," she heard Harry behind her say, "this is… uhm… _Alohomora._ "

She heard the click of the lock behind her. _Damn, wizards are handy._

"Come on, before they go for high ground." Harry pulled her back into the room. It was a small workshop where she collapsed against some workbench. Piper still felt drained from the radiation poisoning but forced herself to stay awake. Her body felt a lot like on the first days after her meeting with the mirelurks; heavy and sloppy. It gave her peace of mind to see Harry work his magic on the door. He took a few bars of steel, waved his wand around them and they became solid steel plates, closing the door shut. Out of nothing he summoned chains with which he fastened the handles together. At the end the door looked right out of a Raider fortress sans the barbed wire.

"That ought 'ta hold." His voice was weak and he wheezed. Piper padded the place next to her against the workbench. It was as good as any place to crash, really. Harry shuffled there and collapsed like a puppet cut from its strings.

"So, no teleportation. How else are we going to get moving, then?" she asked.

"Broom," Harry had his eyes closed. His head leaned against the bench and his body was already stretched out to sleep. His breath sounded like nails scratching over iron and just now she saw the dried blood on his hands and face. Piper took a piece of cloth, some of her water to get it wet, and began to clean his face. He didn't protest, nor open his eyes. All Harry did was murmur something, followed closely by deep, regular breaths.

Piper kept staring at the hands and face she cleaned. She shook her head, thinking that she once again followed some weird person into an adventure through the wasteland. However, this weird one had saved her life twice now, even if, technically, he was responsible for the second incident.

In any case, it already made for a damn good story.

The next day, both stood up bright and early. The sun had barely left then horizon when Harry and Piper got out of the workshop. They risked a quick look down from the roof and saw a field of utter and complete destruction.

"Those are… were Supermutants I assume?" Harry asked, pointing at the huge corpse of a green skinned monstrosity.

"Yep. Big Green there and his friends are the scourge of the wastelands. I'm pretty sure we'll see some alive ones in Boston later."

"And the humans?"

"Gunners. Mercenaries that sit on massive supplies of pre-war army equipment. They have their big camps on highways around here, so we might want to avoid those as well."

"Got it. Anywhere else I shouldn't fly over?"

"Uhm… Boston."

"No, really."

"Yes, really." Piper shrugged. "Raiders are everywhere and if there aren't Raiders, there are Supermutants."

He had to take a few breaths at that. _Of course_ Apparition wouldn't be doable and brooms were an easy target for anyone trying to shoot them. Yes, he had Shield- and Disillusionment Charms, but even those weren't foolproof. While he weighed his options, Harry took the shrunken broom and restored it to its original size. He then proceeded to make it a bit longer. He would have to get Piper on it too, after all.

"Ok, so if I remember correctly, flying directly to the Combat Zone would take us over a lot of land. Judging from what you say, we may want to keep over the sea. But I need landmarks to navigate. Any ideas?"

Piper scratched her chin and scalp while thinking. After a bit she began tapping her foot and drawing imaginary routes into the air. "Well…" she began, "We could fly over the peninsulas on the coast. If I'm right we would fly to Boston Airport and then take a sharp right turn right into the city. There is almost a hundred percent chance we encounter Raiders, as there are hundreds of them there, but we would also fly around a lot of hotspots, like the surroundings of Bunker Hill or the USS Constitution."

"Alright, you're the expert…"

"And don't you forget it." Piper mumbled with a smirk on her face.

"…so I gonna need you to tell me when to turn and where to go. I'm the pilot, you're the navigator."

"Aye, Captain."

"Then get behind me over the broom and hold on."

Piper stepped behind him, over the broomstick and waited for whatever was about to happen. "What now?" she asked.

"Now stand still. This is going to feel really weird." Harry tapped her on the top of the head with his wand. He chuckled at her shivers when the icky feeling of Disillusionment went over her.

"Oh, wow" Piper gasped as she waved her hands around, only visible through a thin line of visual disturbance at the very edge of her silhouette. "That is weird."

"Now hold on to me and I mean really tightly."

"Oh-ho, , if you want me close..."

"Piper…"

"Yea, yea, keep your shirt on." She huffed and grabbed onto Harry's hip. "How is this working?"

"You'll see," he chuckled and then pushed off the ground, their decent accompanied by Piper's shocked screech.

It was mere minutes later, after the initial shock, that Piper decided that flying was the best thing ever. To see Boston from this perspective was breathtaking, in all possible meanings of the word. For the first time in her life she saw the destroyed remnants of Boston in full. Ruin after ruin stretched from one end of the horizon to the other end. However, there was also the part of her that marveled at the sheer tenacity of humanity. Throughout all the destruction she saw so many small circles of huts and houses, fields with corn and razorgrain and then, of course, villages like Bunker Hill clearly marked by the iconic landmarks they were built around. She could even see the stadium from here.

"There! That stadium is Diamond City. And the small village around the obelisk is Bunker Hill." She shouted through the deafening winds. "And there, left of the skyscraper that says Mass Fusion. That village is Goodneighbour. When you are above the Airport, head directly to the stadium!"

"Alright," Harry shouted back.

Boston Airport was soon beneath them. Harry flew a curve around the control tower and headed straight for the direction to Diamond City. Piper gulped as she already saw the first Raiders patrolling along the coast. She reminded herself that she was currently seeing them through the invisible body of Harry, but still, it made her heart beat faster and her throat dry.

"I'm going to slow down when we get to the coast. No speaking." Harry commanded.

Piper was horrified when she saw that by slowing down, Harry meant basically hovering with barely a move forwards. There was the pier right beneath them. On it stood a pair of Raiders, holding standard gear pipe rifles. Harry left them behind and maneuvered them through the streets. There were cracks of shots in the distance. Piper had to remind her that this was normal. There were always shots fired in Boston. Somewhere, someone always got into trouble.

Yard by yard they made their way through the streets. Piper knew that the Combat Zone was very close to a huge Raider nest. However, she hadn't known that the camp was bigger than last time. Once they crossed the corner of the first block, both harry and Piper stifled gasps as they saw a platoon worth of Raiders in the camp, with more guarding the place from the roofs. Harry quickly made his way on top of one of the roofs. He chose one with only two Raiders on it. One was watching over the camp, while the other looked down his scope at the street on the other side.

Piper saw Harry's wand come from his jacket. The air around it warped with the Disillusionment on it. She heard him whisper "Pssst," and then, quick as any marksman, he shot two red blasts at them.

"What did you do to them?" she whispered.

"I stunned them. They'll wake up in a few hours."

"So what do we do now?" Piper went scouting over the balustrade of the roof. They were currently on a half collapsed apartment building and beneath them, on a small plaza, there were more Raiders than she had ever seen, together at one place. It took a while, but eventually she had counted them all. "I see 34 Raiders in the camp and around us."

"How should we go about this? Honestly, 34 rifles pointed at me and I'm not sure I could shield them all."

"We could wait for the night and sneak into the Combat Zone?" Piper wasn't even sure they could do that. So many people were down there that she doubted they could just sneak through.

Harry was about to say something. He already took a breath to speak, but was suddenly interrupted by a loud screech from the other roof.

"FUCKING GHOSTS, DUDE I'M TRIPPIN'" one of the Raiders screamed around and waved his rifle through the air like crazy.

"I do hope he doesn't…" Piper said, but then she saw the Raider aim at them and any other word was stuck in her throat.

"RUN." Harry shouted. He sent a yellow spell out just as the Disillusionment ended. The light collided with the Raider and all that was left of him was the scraps of his armor and bloody goo sprayed over the wall behind him.

Piper grabbed the rifle of the stunned Raider under her. By some godsend it wasn't one of the lousy pipe rifles, but a genuine high caliber Combat Rifle. She checked the magazine. It was full with ammo, ready to shoot.

Just then the first Molotov cocktails exploded on the roof, while an absolute inferno had broken loose in the plaza.

"INCENDIO!" she heard Harry shout, followed by huge, meteor-like fireballs shooting from his wand. He followed it up by a shout of "BOMBARDA" that sent a fast light-projectile against a heavily armored Raider, blasting him like a grenade explosion, followed by curved spells that slashed open the the chest of an unarmored man.

Piper did her best to do her part. She hadn't used rifles often, but the basic principle was always the same anyway. Muzzle meets target, trigger shoots bullet, Raider drops dead. The large caliber of the rifle pounded against her shoulder with the massive recoil. That was something entirely different to the 10mm pistol she had. It felt powerful as it ripped even through armored clothing.

Looking through the scope she spotted one Raider after another and while Harry did the big area damage, she covered his back and took out the sneaky ones. One climbed the stairs and with three quick shots the woman went down, falling from the stairs, onto the ground below. Piper barely heard the thud of the body colliding with concrete before she whirled around and fired at the next target. Her bullets richochet from the massive steel-plate armor of the Raider. The guy lifted a Rocket Launcher of all things and with the typical sound of a cannon shooting, the launcher sent its deadly load. "Look out!" she shouted and dragged Harry down with her.

She barely ducked before the rocket flew over them. "REDUCTO!" she heard Harry shout. "BOMBARDA!" followed and the armor of the man shattered, with his body close after.

Piper meanwhile shot from her cover, the small balustrade of the roof. Around the corner one of the Raiders had a hunting rifle. His shots were accurate and way too close to comfort for her. Her own shots missed by a fair margin and her bullets began to run out.

"Harry. Down there, twelve o'clock, he has a hunting rifle. I can't get him." She shouted while brick and dust sprayed over her from another barely missing shot from the Raider.

"I see him. BOMBARDA! REDUCTO! INCENDIO!" The sheer power of those three spells pulverized the corner of the Raiders cover. The man stumbled from the shock and received the fire spell directly in his face.

Piper made haste to get to the stunned Raider. She rummaged through the womans pockets and found the ammunition she was looking for. Quickly she reloaded, always looking to keep cover from as many sides as possible. She looked back at Harry who stood behind a raised bit of wood and concrete cover. He gestured her to be quiet and Piper hoped that her heart didn't beat too loud for whatever he was about to do. But nothing happened. Nothing happened for minutes.

"Are they gone?" she whispered.

"I don't know. But lets take the chance and dash for the Combat Zone. Get on the broom."

Piper didn't have to be told twice. She jumped up and with two long stretched steps she was behind the same cover as Harry. When she arrived, the wizard was palming his face and groaning in frustration.

"What is it?" she hissed. "We should be going."

"Emphasis on going, as in walking."

"What do you…" The words got stuck in her throat as she followed Harry's arm towards the sight of a charred, broken and blown up wooden stick before her.

"No Apparition, no broom. This shapes up to be a real disaster." Harry sighed. Despite the broken broom before them, he didn't keep on musing about the consequences. Instead he walked towards the ladder down to the emergency-stairs. "How long did you say would walking take us? From here to Salem, I mean." He asked while he climbed down the rusty ladder.

Piper covered for him. She scanned the street below through her sights, but just like the plaza, it was empty of all life. "I'd say about a week. Three days if we're incredibly lucky. It all depends on how much scum we have to work through."

When Harry started covering the street, it was Piper's turn to climb down. The ladder felt like it was made out of cardboard instead of metal. The rust had worked through some vital parts of it and Piper expected to fall down any second. Landing on the stairs below felt equally unsafe. The whole construction was eroded to a point where no sane man should use it. But then again, sanity was constantly out of stock in the Commonwealth.

Squeaking and creaking followed their descent, but not once did they see anyone. Piper imagined that the rest of the Raiders around the area were waiting behind cover for whatever had laid havoc onto the large camp. She knew, though, that eventually they would come looking. "We should hurry." She urged Harry.

He just nodded and walked a bit faster. His wand and eyes were constantly scanning the perimeter. At every sound he paused, listened and then proceeded.

Piper took out her pistol. They were in such close quarters that the rifle became a nuisance. She felt the adrenaline in her body and the shakes she got from it didn't help to steady her gun. She too checked every window and every corner for any sign of enemies. The wind howled through the street. It gave her shivers. It brought the smell of salt from the toxic waters of the bay and banished the remaining sulfur and gunpowder in the air.

"Its too quiet." Piper whispered as she looked around the corner to the entry of the Combat Zone. She tried to be calm, collected, but Harry could see her pistol shaking in her hands. However, it wasn't like he was any more calm. He has had his dose of thugs back in his old life as an Auror. Though, even the toughest Death Eater leftover was small fry against the sheer fatalism of the Raiders. There was no reasoning with them, no bargaining or hands in the air. Once you met them on their turf, they attacked and didn't stop until either you or they were biting the dust. He had to admit that he was oddly impressed by the Raiders they had fought not five minutes ago. Every normal human being would run in the face of someone who could conjure fireballs and explosions.

"They must have heard our fight. Maybe they regrouped?"

Piper gave a quiet snort at that and shook her head. "Raiders don't regroup. No, something else is happening."

"At the risk of sounding stupid," Harry whispered to Piper "Maybe we should just… you know… walk in?"

"Just walk in?"

"Just walk in."

Piper turned to him, one brow raised, mouth in a pout. Then something seemed to click in her head. "Oh, yea right… wizard." She shrugs. "I keep forgetting that."

"Yep," Harry nodded. "Wooden stick of Doom at the ready, awaiting your go."

"Doomstick didn't help against the almost hit of that hunting rifle." Piper snorted. "Anyway, alright, lets go."

Even with the power of magic behind her, Piper was cautious as she approached the wooden double-door in the little alcove. Above it "Combat Zone" was written in big, red letters on a building that may have once been an theater of sorts. Some fires burning in barrels lit the street up with single, orange spots of light, drawing long, flickering shadows along the scenery. Somewhere in the distance, shots were fired. Piper whirled around and pointed her gun in the distance.

"That fight is far away," Harry tried to calm her and laid a hand on her stretched out arms that held the gun with small shakes and shivers. "Stay focused." He commanded and took the leading position from her. His hand never left her arm as he guided her towards the door.

The double-door had already shed its paint and was left fighting against the weather with nothing but the raw wood. Some mold was in the joint gaps and here and there, holes were shot, punched and rotten through it. Harry looked through one of the holes. He could see faint light, a cage on the left and one of those wall-mounted computers, but no Raiders, or anyone really.

"Seems clear." He said and without waiting for Piper to answer, pushed open the door. His wand shot up, the Protego shield ready for impact.

"No price behind door one." Piper whispered. Somehow her voice has become a bit less shaky and her movement was once again effective and focused, with her pistol searching for targets at corners and doors.

"Lets open door two, then." Harry went ahead. This one was in better condition, with the holes repaired and the rot kept away with paint. He leaned against it, and listened with his ear pressed against the thinnest part of the door.

"Someone is in there." He whispered as he heard some rummaging sounds. He looked at Piper who held up one finger, then two fingers, then three fingers.

"I don't know. Sounds like only one." Harry answered her unspoken question. He looked at her and waited, still listening. There were more sounds coming from within. Metal on metal sounds, like the screeching of railroad brakes. Then some stuff crashing, something creaking and cracking. However, the sounds came one after another.

"Can't be more than two. Lets go! You ready?"

"Yes," Piper whispered and took position behind Harry, aiming to his right, while he checked the left side once the door was opened. "Go," she hissed.

Harry sent a banisher against the door. The double door flew through the room with splinters from the door frame right behind it. Harry checked the middle and left. Piper quickly scanned the right and then the middle. Harry knelt on the floor, a quick Reducto right on his lips, while Pipers pointer pressed against the trigger of her pistol.

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

"Oh, for fucks sake!"

Both Harry's and Piper's head whirled around.

"It was open! Open!" came from the middle of what was once a stage that was transformed in what Harry could only guess was a fighting cage. Behind the bars stood a ghoul, of the sentient kind, with a ragged, blue suit and what looked like a second-hand toupé on his head. He was seething and when Harry and Piper stood still, taking in the weird image, he took the broom in his hands and threw it across the arena. "I had enough! Fuck this place!"

"Excuse me, sir?" Harry began. He lowered his wand and slowly walked closer to the cage. Piper was just behind him, her pistol at the ready, but pointing away from the raging ghoul. "Sir, we are looking for someone, maybe you could help us?"

"Why would I, huh?!" the ghoul shouted back. "For the great interior design job?"

Both Piper and Harry looked embarrassed as the ghoul kept on shouting about anything and everybody, cursing the world and his place in it. Harry looked over at Piper, only to see her shrug. She then turned to the still seething ghoul, straightened the 'Press' sign in her cap and spoke with silky smooth voice. "I see we are not the first to interrupt your business. Granted, the door is our fault and we shall compensate for it, but the rest surely isn't our work. What happened?" She drew her pen and notebook like others drew a pistol, pressed the top of the pen, and gave the ghoul the best 'I'm waiting' look she got.

The ghoul looked at her, but Harry couldn't really describe the look. First off, he wasn't sure about his skills in identifying expressions on the skinned and scarred faces of ghouls. Though, the ghouls eyes were resigned.

"As if you don't know, Wright." He answered. His entire body deflated and he sat down onto the edge of the arena.

Piper looked back at Harry and shook her head. "No, I…" she thought for a moment. "No I don't know. I've been… on… vacation… the last week and a half."

"So you're saying you don't know about your Dweller friend, that fucking psycho bitch. You wrote an article about her, how could you not know?"

"Nora was here?" Piper whispered. In one moment her entire posture changed. Her jaw muscles tensed and the cool and smiling eyes burned up in anger.

"That is the one who left you behind, wasn't it?" Harry asked to keep her from exploding. He remembered very well the first time Piper had been able to muster enough strength to rage to her hearts content. Merlin be thanked for Reparo charms.

"Yes," Piper pressed out through grinding teeth. "Yes, thats her name. That damn…"

"Calm, Piper." Harry urged her. He laid a hand on her shoulder and just as if he had pressed a button, Piper slumped into herself and sat down onto one of the still somewhat intact theater chairs. "You're alive and well."

"So I'm not the only one that crazy vault-dweller fucked over? Mildly interesting." The ghoul said. He turned a bottlecap in his fingers, looking at it with a sad sort of smile. "Thats what she left me. One lousy bottlecap. Should've just killed me and be done with it. What am I supposed to do now? My arena is in freakin' Raider territory, I don't have a fighter, and…"

"Wait, wait, wait," Piper interrupted. "Cait isn't here?"

"Nah, she left with the vault-dweller. Crazy met crazy and they liked each other from the start, I reckon."

"Merlin damnit…" Harry sighed. He too sat down and closed his eyes, imagining how much trouble they could've prevented if they'd known this before.

"What a waste of time and bullets." Piper said, but her pen was flying over her notebook. She seemed to be working hard. Her face was twisted in concentration and she didn't even seem to notice how she kept biting her lip.

Harry had to smile at that view, but quickly came back to the matter at hand. "Have they said anything that could help us? Where they're going or where Nora was before she came here?"

The ghoul didn't seem to hear him. He just kept twisting the bottlecap in his fingers, deep in thought.

"What is your name?" Harry asked.

"Tommy Lonegan." The ghoul answered.

"You know Tommy, I can help you out. You seem like a businessman?"

"Entertainer," the ghouls gave back without looking up. "I had my own show before the war and I was damn good at hosting it. Now…" he looked around. In the back of Tommy's throat a deep growl came out and with a shout of anger, he threw his last bottlecap somewhere into the debris. "Now look at this shit! I'll have to go back to Hancock and grovel on my knees for a hut on the street so that I won't get my head bashed in by some stray Supermutant! Bah!"

"What if I tell you that I got a job for you?" Harry smiled at the skeptic look he got from the ghoul, but he saw it, in the way he grabbed his suit and straightened the fake flower that hung on it, that he was listening. "I have a settlement, but no one to keep the people there going. We have food, we have safety, but we don't have games, if you get what I'm saying."

"I get it. Your people are bored and bored people do dumb shit. Hasn't been any different before the war, if you can believe it. Hell, I even hosted a show that was called 'Cut the Commie'." He paused, obviously remembering better times. With a shake of his head he ripped himself from his own thought and looked back at Harry. "What are you thinking about? You don't seem the guy for arena fights."

"No, I rather not have my people fight each other." Harry nodded. "But we could use a radio host and maybe some friendly competitions of some sort. Anything that isn't too violent and gets people to forget for a while."

"You sound like one of my producers." He laughed and held out his hand. "I guess now its time for business. Whats in this for you?"

Harry smiled and took the hand. The leathery, slightly damp feeling of ghouls still gave him the shivers, but he tried to suppress it. "I will give you housing, food and safety. But I don't have caps."

"That is a broad order. No caps doesn't sound very motivating."

"You won't need any. We care for our own, and if you agree you will be one of them."

"I want sheets, and an actual bed, and three meals a day, and…" he stopped at the roaring laughter of Piper. "What so funny?"

Piper tried to silence her laughter, but merely got it down to a giggle. "Don't worry…" she snorted and chuckled, barely able to stop herself from laughing out loud again. "Don't worry, you'll have all that and more."

"And how would you know that, Wright?"

"I was there and saw it myself. Sheets, pillows, furnished rooms, at least two hot meals a day. Its incredible, really."

The ghoul looked suspicious. "How would you manage that? I haven' heard from you, so you aren't a big one in the Commonwealth."

"We will be and we have our ways." Harry said. "But how exactly we do it is…"

"Members only information." Piper quipped and chuckled again at Harry's amused face.

"Alright, its not as if I had anything to loose." The ghoul shrugged. "Frankly, the chance to host something that isn't people murdering each other would be a nice change of pace." He shook Harry's hand with one, powerful shake. "You got yourself a deal."

"Great," Harry practically jumped up from his seat. Once again, Salem grew. "I'm Harry Potter, mayor of Salem."

"Salem? Now that is quite a walk. I thought you were just one more bunch of people holed up in some skyscraper." Tommy scratched his head. "So I'm guessing you still have something to do in Boston? You're looking for Cait, if I remember correctly?"

"Yes, she may or may not be important, we don't know yet, but we'd like to find out." Piper answered, pen once more at the ready.

"I gotta admit, I didn't listen very closely, but the dweller said something about a railroad."

It was barely noticeable, but Harry saw the jerk Pipers head made when Tommy mentioned a railroad. It would be a question for later, he decided before he turned to Tommy. "Have you heard anything else? Names, maybe? Locations?"

"Not really," Tommy drifted off. He scratched his chin and straightened the fake rose again. His eyes widened slightly when he looked back up at Harry. "Wait, I do remember one tiny tidbit. She mentioned something about a… whats his name… Melog… Kelbog…

"Kellogg?" Piper asked with an noticeable shiver in her voice.

"Yes! Thats the name. That lady seems to want the head of whoever that is."

"That is at least a lead. Thank you, Tommy." Harry looked over to Piper. "You got that?"

She nodded. "Yea, got it all."

"Good, so I guess we'll head back then. We need to get Tommy to Salem and more research would be good."

"Uhm…" Piper scratched the back of her head as if she was shy to ask. She opened her mouth, but got promptly interrupted by Tommy.

"Don't you worry about me. I'll find my own way to Salem."

"But we can get you there safe. Bigger groups are more secure, are they not?"

"Thanks, mayor, but I still have things to clear up before I join you." He smiled and his ghoulish eyes blinked in the dim light. "Can't have those loose ends hanging around when I'm starting a new career, now can I?"

"No, I guess you're right. Just be safe."

"I survived this hellhole for over 200 years. I know my way around and Salem is really not that hard to find. Shoot Mirelurks until you see a lot of Mirelurks, they always say." Tommy laughed, a barking sound full of mirth, and got up from his sitting position. "I'll get a cache from a hidden spot around the corner. Some bullets, some food, you know. I'll see you at Salem."

With that the ghoul went off into the hell of the Commonwealth, a spring in his step and his fake rose straight as a nail on his chest. Harry waited until the ghoul has vanished before he turned back to Piper. "What do you say we go back to Salem? Cut our loses?"

"Actually,…" Piper played with her thumbs. "Actually, could we go to Diamond City?"

"What? Why, I thought they hated you, or something?"

"Exactly,…" she drawled. "You see, that is why I wanna go."

"Explain,"

"You see, I have my printing press there. All my old notes and I was hoping you could do me a big, huge favor?"

Harry tilted his head and looked at her with an unimpressed face. "I think we're past the point of beating around the bush, Piper. After more than a week together this has to be a enormous favor for you to act like this."

"Okay then," she started. Piper took a long breath. "I want to live in Salem… I love my place in Diamond City, you know, because of the contacts, but living in Salem would be nice, safe. Anyway, if you can't do that then I at least want you to take my sister Nat and give her a better home."

Now that made Harry look up. "You have a sister? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Never came up?"

"Yes, it never did, why?" Harry looked outraged. "I mean, shes your family, and I mean, how old is she that you need to take care of her?"

"Twelve,…" Piper couldn't even meet Harry's eyes at that. She startled when he took her shoulders and pierced her eyes with his own gaze.

"First off, what the hell? You let a 12 year old alone?"

"She isn't al…"

"Second off, yes of course we get her to Salem."

"Oh, thank y…"

"And third," this time Harry's voice was threatening, his eyes were ablaze and it was just the last week of slowly budding friendship that made Piper hold off on drawing her gun.

"Third,… if you ever, EVER, let Hermione know that you left a 12 year old to fend for herself in this land, then may Merlin have mercy on your soul because she wont, do you understand me?"

"I… what?"

"I said, do you understand what I told you? Do not, under any circumstance, let Hermione know of this."

"I… alright, ok, I got it. No word to the bossy one."

"Good… good," Harry let out a sigh of relief. "I swear, if she gets wind of this you'll find out how being turned into a frog feels like."

Harry stood up, and padded his clothes off. Even the clothes used to blend in got dirty in Raider holes. He made his way to the door, but stopped when he didn't hear Piper follow. "You coming?" he asked.

Piper was frozen on her seat, staring at him with big eyes. "Turned… turned into a frog?"

She didn't get much of an answer. Harry just laughed and gestured her to follow. "Come on, lets get your sister, frog-lady."

He just laughed even more at the stream of insults that was thrown at him from behind.

 **I realized I lied. I uploaded The Bloodmoon Rises before this one. Anyway, one day afterwards ain't a problem. I hope you had fun with this, I certainly did.**

 **ALL HAIL ATOM!**


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